


Bonded

by StarCrossedRebel



Category: star wars the last jedi
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Fluff and Angst, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-06-13 08:01:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15359889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarCrossedRebel/pseuds/StarCrossedRebel
Summary: After the Battle of Crait, Hux and Ren return to the Finalizer. Hux takes Ren back to his rooms to clean and dress his wounds, and from there things get a little... steamy. Hux gets way more than he bargained for, though. Instead of a pleasant one night stand, Hux discovers that Ren has accidentally bonded them through the Force. Thus ensues a story wherein Hux wants nothing more than for the bond to be broken. Until he's kinda okay with it. And ending with him desperately trying to save it.





	1. Chapter 1

“There’s no sign of the Resistance, sir,” the trooper reported. “We found a naturally formed exit about three hundred yards down the eastern tunnel, but the salt fall is heavy enough to have covered any tracks. We did a five mile sweep of the area to be sure, but… they’re gone.”

Hux clenched his fists, the leather of his gloves stretching taut across his knuckles and creaking from the pressure. What a perfect, bloody mess this all was. They had pursued the last remnants of the Resistance across the galaxy in a doomed procession, blowing up their ships one by one, and then had had them trapped within the decrepit walls of an abandoned Resistance base, no more than four hundred of them in total. Their V-4X- D ski speeders, at least six decades old, were pitted against the First Order’s finest weaponry, including a superlaser siege cannon. And yet _somehow_ , Ren had managed to allow the Resistance to escape. His emotional torrent was so strong it literally defied odds.

Hux gave a curt nod and dismissed the trooper. The trooper saluted smartly before rejoining his squad. Hux took care to steady his breathing. It wouldn’t do well to appear to be emotionally compromised right now. He couldn’t allow the anger to get the better of him, no matter how badly he wanted to scream and break things. His soldiers needed to see a calm and collected leader, steady in the face of defeat, not a rampaging child.

Phasma’s vocoder crackled. In a crisply modulated voice, she said, “Sir, it’s time to go. There’s nothing more we can do.”

Hux’s eyes swept over the interior of the old Rebel base, taking in each grimy detail — the dank rock walls, the dirt floor, the outdated technology, the empty ammo crates, the ramshackle weapons, obsolete even in their time. They had come so close to crushing the Resistance and bringing a definitive end to the war. But this dingy cavern had outmaneuvered the First Order in a way that was difficult for even Hux’s mind to understand. Today should have been a First Order victory.

“I know,” Hux said quietly.

“Shall I collect Leader Ren?” Phasma asked.

Hux brought his gaze to Phasma. She looked as impeccable as always, unflappable in her chrome plated armor, plasma gun knocked into the crook of her arm. She stood straight backed, chin raised, undaunted by the prospect of facing Ren’s wrath. Hux had half a mind to let her go. He had no desire to approach Ren, let alone talk to the animal. A wounded Ren was a dangerous Ren, and Hux had had enough of being manhandled by the Force for one day. His throat was sore from being choked, and he was sure he was going to have a lovely strip of bruising down his back from where Ren had thrown him into the wall of the shuttle.

But Ren wasn’t Phasma’s responsibility. He shouldn’t have been anyone’s responsibility, really, considering that he was a grown man of 29, but Hux had long ago taken it upon himself to keep the brute in check. And right now, he was the least likely to be killed by Ren. Sure, Ren could hurt him in a myriad of ways, but he needed Hux alive. Who else was going to keep the First Order running?

“No,” Hux told Phasma, “I will inform Leader Ren about the status of the search. Tell the troopers to keep a distance. We don’t want anyone stumbling into their own death.”

Phasma hesitated. Slowly, she said, “I’m not sure if that is wise. Ren can be volatile… especially when provoked.”

Despite himself, Hux felt a smile twitch at the corner of his lips. “What are you trying to say, Captain?”

Bluntly. “That you often purposefully behave in a way that encourages Ren to lash out. For reasons beyond my comprehension, you seem to enjoy getting reactions out of him.” Pause. “To put it plainly, you toy with him. Sir.”

Hux huffed quietly. “Well, it’s the least he deserves.”

“I’m just saying, you’re life would be easier if you stopped goading him.”

“Easier,” Hux said, “and so much less interesting.”

There was a flare of static from Phasma’s mask. Hux wasn’t sure if it was a sigh or a burst of laughter. In any case, it brought an end to their conversation. Phasma left to address her troops, and Hux turned to face the open archway leading to where Ren was.

It was an old communications room. The walls were made from rough hewn stone, and thin, rectangular lights were set into the ceiling. A hexagonal control panel blinked beneath an array of square windows; grey light streamed in through dirt streaked glass. Black tubes snaked across the floor. Motes of dust danced in the air. The skeleton of an office chair was tipped over. Kneeling in the middle of it all, head bowed, was Ren.

His dark hair fell in a curtain around his face, shielding his expression from view, but based off the tense set of his shoulders, Hux surmised it was something along the lines of murderous.

Keeping a distance of six feet, Hux stopped and cleared his throat. Raising his chin and clasping his hands behind his back, he said, “I’ve had the troopers scour every inch of this base and the surrounding area up to a five mile radius. There’s no sign of the Resistance.”

Ren didn’t react. Didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Didn’t even indicate that he had heard Hux. Silence stretched out. Hux tapped his finger against his wrist.

“Your troops await orders,” Hux said.

Silence.

“We should return to the Finalizer as soon as possible and formulate a new strategy. The Resistance is weak and on the run. We need to press this advantage. The day is lost, but the war is still ours to win.”

Nothing. Not even the subtle lift and fall of shoulders to suggest that he was breathing. Ren was immutably still.

Hux clenched his jaw and cautioned a step forward. Through gritted teeth he said, “I understand why you’re upset. Losing the Resistance was — is — disheartening, to say the least. But now is not the time to be distracted by regret. You made yourself the Supreme Leader, and now it’s time to act like it. So stop moping on the floor like a child and —”

As predicted, an invisible grip closed around Hux’s throat, cutting off his speech. He smiled ruefully as Ren turned to glare up at him.

Finally, some progress.

“You don’t understand anything,” Ren hissed.

Pushing down the panic that accompanied not being able to breathe, Hux steadily met Ren’s wrathful gaze. He didn’t miss the minute tremors running through Ren’s body, or the nerve ticking beneath his right eye. Ren looked pale. Sick. Young.

Ren growled. The Force hold around Hux’s throat tightened painfully before it was released all together. Hux breathed deeply but steadily, determined to keep up the facade of control.

“You don’t know anything,” Ren said again, quieter.

Hux smoothed his hands down the front of his tunic, sniffing lightly. “I may not —”

But once again, Hux was cut off by Ren, an outburst of a different nature silencing him. The lights in the ceiling burst in a sudden explosion of glass that pelted the floor with sharp chinks. Then, with a deep, guttural yell, Ren was on the move. He stalked across the room, possessed by a fresh fit of rage. Grabbing the metal skeleton of the discarded chair, Ren swung it in the air and flung it at the middle square window. It broke through in a flurry of glass and clattered to an unseeable location. Then Ren had his hands on the top casing of the control panel and was ripping it off. The metal toar with a low groan. He jammed the large piece of scrap into the internal wiring of the control panel, and sparks flew. Having spotted the electronic navigation charts, he promptly shoved his fist through the screen. Shards of plexiglass shot out in a hundred different directions.

  
Hux watched in silence as Ren tore apart the room in systematic destruction. To interfere would have been suicide, his face replacing the plexiglass screen.

When he finished, Ren stood with his back to Hux, his shoulders hunched as he curled into himself furiously. His chest shuttered from the force of his ragged breathing. Hux watched wearily as his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides, as if itching to break something else. Hux was the only unbroken thing left in the room.

“Feel better now that you’ve destroyed something?” Hux asked. It was, perhaps, not the wisest thing he could have said. But just as it was hard for Ren to hold back his temper, it was hard for Hux to bite down on his tongue.

“Be grateful it was the room I destroyed and not your face,” Ren said, voice low.

“My gratitude was not misplaced, Ren. It simply was not given,” Hux said. “That was the third time you’ve threatened me with the Force today.”

“Perhaps if you were less insolent you would get threatened less,” Ren remarked dryly.

“Perhaps if you were less childish you would not have to face my insolence as much,” Hux countered.

Ren turned around, glare in place. “I shouldn’t have to face your insolence at all. I am your Supreme Leader. Your respect should be implicit.”

“Titles don’t demand respect, Ren. Actions and merit do. If you want to be respected as a worthy leader, you must first prove yourself as one.”

“Oh?” This seemed to amuse Ren. “So tell me, Hux, worthy and beloved leader of the people, how does a leader prove themselves?”

“By leading,” Hux answered simply. “More important than leading your troops to victory is being able to lead your troops through failure. Army morale is weakened during defeat, and that is when it must be at its strongest. A good leader would offer instruction to their soldiers while emphasizing the importance of their cause.”

Ren chuckled mirthlessly. “Spoken like a true general of the First Order,” he said. “Which textbook from the Academy did that come from? I bet you know the exact page number.”

“It’s not textbook, Ren. It’s experience. An area, allow me to remind you, that you are sorely lacking in.”

“I think I’ll manage on my own.”

“You can’t just Force choke everyone who opposes you.”

“Why not? It worked just fine on you. And you’re the most stubborn man I’ve ever met.”

Hux blew out a careful breath. “That’s only because you can’t know yourself.”

“I know myself well enough.”

“Then why is it that you push everyone away? Mystical Force powers or no, do you really expect to survive without any allies?”

Something genuine flickered across Ren’s face. His lips twisted, and his eyes stretched at the sides. The fragile amusement in his eyes shattered, leaving them flat. It seemed as if Hux had finally struck a chord.

“I don’t need anyone,” Ren whispered. But it wasn’t said in the voice of a man stating a fact. He sounded like a boy trying to convince himself of a lie.

“You’re — _you’re_ bleeding!” Hux said, this new sentence crowding out the original one and flying out of his mouth before he could even process what he was seeing.

Ren looked down at the torn sleeve of his robes, an almost sheepish look passing over his face. Catching the unchecked emotion, he quickly hardened it into something impassive. “It’s nothing,” he said. And then Kylo Ren, the most powerful Force user in the galaxy, actually tried to hide his arm behind his back, like an injured boy coming home to his mother.

“It’s become apparent to me that we have different definitions of the word ‘nothing,’” Hux said.

The wound on Ren’s arm didn’t look like nothing, no doubt obtained during his little tantrum. The black sleeve of his robes was shorn up the side, creating a wide flap that showed his muscled arm. And the ghastly wound carved down it. Starting near the inside of his elbow, it curved around his forearm and curled into his palm. Blood seeped from the ripped skin, staining the entirety of his arm in a slippery red. Blood dripped silently onto the floor from his fingertips.

“Nevermind the — cut,” Ren said. “Give the order to return to the Finalizer. There’s nothing left here. The remainder of the Resistance boarded the Millennium Falcon and entered light speed some time ago.”

Hux’s mouth fell open. “Why didn’t you say so sooner?”

“It wouldn’t have made a difference. They were gone by the time we entered the base.”

“Then—what have we been doing here?”

  
Ren hesitated. “I—meditating.”

“Meditating?”

Ren’s eyebrows furrowed. “I was trying to use the Force to find them. Snoke, he—bridged me and Rey’s—the Jakku junker’s—minds together. We could—see each other through it. But she’s shut herself off from me. I can’t—” Ren paused, the words sticking in his throat. “I can’t sense her anymore.”

Realization dawned on Hux, and with it, the sting of truth. “You’re not upset that the Resistance got away,” Hux said. “You’re upset because the girl left.” Ren didn’t try to refute this. “Stars, Ren! She’s a member of the Resistance! She blew up my base! You said she killed Snoke! She’d probably kill you if she had the chance! She would most certainly kill me given the opportunity! And you’re sad because she’s gone?!”

Ren growled. “I already told you that you don’t understand anything. You know nothing of the Force or the connection we shared.”

This statement, more than anything, irked Hux. “I understand that she’s part of the Resistance. That’s all I need to know.”

“What a gift, Hux, to be able to judge someone else’s character so thoroughly.”

  
“It’s not about judging character, Ren. It’s about knowing whose side you’re on. The girl’s, or mine?”


	2. Chapter 2

Ren swept out of the old control room in a flurry of black robes and rage. Hux followed behind, though with considerable less menace in his gait and a careful distance of nine feet interposed between them. He watched wearily as Ren stomped up to Phasma. Her silver helmet tilted minutely, taking note of her Supreme Leader’s approach, and she quickly dismissed the trooper she was talking to; they scuttled off with a lowered head and hurried steps. It was subtle, but Hux noticed Phasma’s body stiffen, her muscles tensing at the possibility of a fight. She turned fully now to address Ren. 

 

But Ren hardly paid her any attention. He didn’t even stop walking when he told her to return with her troops to the Finalizer; he simply barked the order in passing. And then he was marching out of the base, fists clenched, robes swirling. Crimson footprints trailed behind him as he made his way across the vast white salt flats to his shuttle. Phasma’s mask followed Ren’s departure before coming back to rest on Hux, a slow swivel that Hux felt down to his bones. He could feel the woman’s pointed gaze burning a hole through his head. 

 

Phasma’s rough, metallic voice rang out over her troops, “All squads, return to your designated shuttles! We’re returning to the Finalizer!”

 

In a burst of energy, the troopers began to arrange themselves into orderly white rows. There were eight squads in total, and when amassed, they moved out of the base in neat packs, one following after the other. Their synchronized footsteps lent a steady beat to their procession across the flats. 

 

Hux drifted to Phasma’s side, almost idly, hands loosely clasped behind his back. They watched the departure of their soldiers in silence, standing shoulder to shoulder. Hux waited patiently for Phasma to say her piece. After nearly ten years of what he would consider friendship, Hux knew that when the willful woman had something to say, it was best to simply accept the lashing. 

 

Phasma’s gaze was trained on the horizon when she spoke. “How is Leader Ren?” she asked. 

 

The corner of Hux’s mouth twitched up. Sardonically, he said, “The leading exemplar of restraint and poise, as always.”

 

“I warned you not to push him,” Phasma said. 

 

Hux raised his chin marginally. “He needs to be pushed,” he said. “He’s the Supreme Leader now —his choice, not mine—and the fate of the First Order now rests in his hands.  If he continues to act like a spoiled brat, he will bring ruin to everything we have built, and everything we strive to build. I will not stand by and watch that happen.” 

 

Phasma considered this. “Our new Supreme Leader certainly has a few… _ kinks _ that need to be smoothed out,” she said. 

 

“But?” Hux prompted, sensing there was more to Phasma’s statement. 

 

“But picking fights with him isn’t going to help him ease into his new role,” Phasma said. “If anything, it’ll only make his transition to power more unstable, more likely to explode in all of our faces.”

 

“What would you have me do, then?” Hux asked. “Let him get away with his abysmal behavior? Allow him to throw tantrums and destroy things because someone hurt his feelings or because he didn’t get what he wanted?”

 

Phasma paused, gathering words to herself. “Not all leaders rise to power in the same way,” she said. “Truly great leaders forge their own paths.” She tipped her helmet in Hux’s direction. “But not without the help of those around them. You’ve shared your past with me — the things your father did to you to make you the man you are today —he practically tortured you—but not everyone responds well to that type of… treatment.  Some people require a… a gentle hand to instill a strong resolve.”

 

Hux spun on his heel to stare at Phasma, his eyebrows hitching on their own accord. “Are you suggesting that I coddle him?” he asked.

 

“Not coddle, per se,” Phasma said, “but you could try acting… civil towards him.”

 

“But I am civil,” Hux said. 

 

Phasma’s tone was admonishing, even through the vocoder. “Not succumbing to the desire to kill him doesn’t count as being civil,” she said. 

 

Hux huffed. “Well, it should,” he said. “A special definition of civility should apply when interacting with the likes of Kylo Ren.”

 

Phasma scoffed, a thick choke of static that burst from her vocoder. “There’s a special definition I apply to the likes of Armitage Hux when he acts like a stubborn ass.” 

 

A bark of laughter escaped Hux. “Careful, Phasma,” he said. “There are some who would consider those words treason.”

 

“Something tells me that Leader Ren would find them heroic rather than treacherous,” Phasma said. “He’d probably pin a medal on me.”

 

Hux smiled. “Two medals,” he said. “And a ribbon.”

 

“And a ribbon,” Phasma agreed.

 

* * *

Hux grabbed the support beam welded into the shuttle roof with one hand as the ship rumbled to life and lifted off the surface of Crait. Ren was seated below from where Hux was standing. He had claimed the entire length of one of the long benches with the look on his face alone. The snarl wrinkling his nose twisted the scar cutting across his cheek into something ghastly and frightening. His brown eyes looked round and manically black. The tension rippled off his body in waves. No words were needed to communicate the warning: approach if you want a swift and decisive end to your life. 

 

Hux glanced at the digital clock above the exit door of the passenger hull and did a quick calculation. For a full… 23 minutes and 45 seconds —the time it would take to reach the Finalizer—he would have to make sure that Ren didn’t kill anyone. 

 

The 16 other troopers who had been instructed to ride with Hux were crammed together on the bench opposite of Ren. They were practically sitting in each other’s laps; their armor chinked together whenever the shuttle was rocked by turbulence. Hux figured that being a little uncomfortable was better than being skewered on the end of Ren’s lightsaber and left them where they were. 

 

A medic, a young woman dressed in a simple white tunic and pants, materialized in the doorway of the passenger hull. There was a metal box clutched in her shaking hands. With careful steps, she picked her way between trooper boots, discarded armor, and stray weapons, making a steady approach for Ren. Hux watched her apathetically, the outcome of what was about to happen already certain in his head. 

 

Ren, sensing the medic’s approach, fixed his eyes on her puny form, pinning her to the spot. She froze, mid step, first aid kit still clutched in her hands, and swallowed. Instead of coming forward, she wisely chose to stay where she was, a good distance away from Ren. She opened her tiny heart shaped mouth and a high squeak of a voice came out. “I was told you needed medical attention?” It came out sounding like a question, fearful and uncertain. 

 

Ren growled, and Hux fought the urge to roll his eyes. “I don’t need a medic,” Ren said, pitching his voice lower than usual. “Leave.” 

 

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” The medic gave a panicked salute and turned quickly on her heel, almost tripping over her own stumbling feet in her haste to escape Ren’s gaze.

 

Hux watched her departure with the same apathetic grace, then glanced down at Ren. Blood continued to trickle steadily from the wound on his arm and pooled across the bench in a red spill. 

 

“Well,” Hux said, “you’re going to have to let someone look at your arm. You’re bleeding all over the place.”

 

“I can handle it myself,” Ren muttered. He didn’t look up at Hux when he spoke. “I have medical training.” 

 

“Excuse my insolence, Supreme Leader,” Hux said, “but I don’t think that constantly injuring yourself can be reasonably viewed as medical training.” Hux felt more than heard the troopers shift behind him. Phasma’s warning voice played in the back of his head. He ignored both. 

 

“Perhaps you should get checked out by a medic,” Ren said. “If I recall, you took quite the blow against a shuttle wall.” He glared up at Hux through a curtain of tangled black hair, dark eyes flashing. There was a vicious edge to his lips, not quite a smile, but too self pleased to be a grimace. 

 

Hux smiled tightly in return. “Thank you, Supreme Leader, for your concern,” he said. “You can rest easy. I am perfectly fine. In fact,” he continued, “I haven’t felt this motivated in ages.”

 

Ren drew forward menacingly. “Oh?” he said. “And what, pray tell, is this new found motivation?”

 

“I guess you’ll find out,” Hux said. 

 

“Are you threatening me, General?” Ren asked. 

 

“Of course not,” Hux said. “That would be treason.”

 

“And means for a public execution,” Ren said. 

 

“I guess I better be careful, then,” Hux said. 

 

“Careful not to commit treason?” Ren asked, leaning forward. “Or careful not to get  _ caught _ commiting treason?”

 

Hux said, with perhaps too much chutzpah, “Whichever option gets me what I want.”

 

A beat of silence followed. Hux and Ren stared at each other, locked in each other’s gazes, a silent communication of hate filled promises passing between them. Hux fought the urge to hold his breath, waiting to see how Ren would respond to his brazen behavior, half expecting to be thrown across the shuttle at any second. 

 

Ren, settling back into his slumped position on the bench, said, “I guess I better be careful, too.” 

 

Hux held Ren’s gaze for a moment longer, searching for… for — _ something _ . Something he couldn’t quite name. An emotion? A confirmation? The rules to the game they were now playing? He hit a wall, those brown eyes as unknowable as always. 

  
Hux returned his attention to the clock.  14 minutes and 30 seconds to go. 


	3. Chapter 3

Hux’s grip on the support beam tightened as the shuttle docked. Steam burst from the thrusters, washing up the windows, hindering visibility as the shuttle touched down. A slight jolt rocked the shuttle, jostling the inhabitants of the passenger hold together. There was a pause, and then the exit ramp was lowering. A low whine filled the air, and the troopers remained still. Ren was already on the move, stomping down the ramp before it was fully lowered. Hux watched, somewhat stunned into docility by the suddenness and urgency of his departure, before he shook himself from his stupor and quickly marched after the ridiculous man. 

 

Two dozen stormtroopers and officers were amassed outside the shuttle, as was protocol, dutifully awaiting the return of their new Supreme Leader. When Ren approached, and it became evident that he was in no mood to address the retinue, the group quickly broke apart, giving Ren room to walk through them unimpeded. Ren stalked through them with the air of a wounded animal, head lowered, eyes roving threateningly over the soldiers, more dangerous than ever. Hux picked up his pace, his heels gliding across the polished floor as he sped to catch up to Ren. 

 

When Ren reached the hallway and turned right, Hux, still a few paces behind, called, “Where are you going? The med bay is in the other direction.” 

 

He thought he heard Ren curse under his breath, but he couldn’t be sure. Regardless, he didn’t stop to address Hux. Keeping up the same determined pace, he said, “Believe it or not, I do know my way around this ship.” 

 

“Then you know that you’re going in the wrong direction,” Hux said. Surrendering a small sliver of dignity, he adopted a light jog to reach Ren’s side. Keeping stride now, he said, “You need to see a medic.” 

 

“I’m not going to the med bay,” Ren said, eyes steadily trained ahead. There was a threatening quality to his gaze. Anyone who came under it quickly sprang back, plastering themselves against the wall as Ren passed. 

 

Hux said, “So you’re just going to bleed to death? That makes things easier for me. And here I thought you might pose a challenge. But now that I think about it, it’s only fitting that you die from your own sheer, dumb stubbornness.” 

 

“Hux,” Ren said, “I am not going to die from blood loss.” 

 

“What about infection?” Hux said, skipping ahead and turning around, walking backwards so he faced Ren. “Can your magic powers prevent infection? Disease? Do you have any idea how filthy the room that you cut yourself in was?”

 

Ren spared Hux a fleeting glance, but his face and pace remained unchanged. “My  _ magic powers _ might not prevent infection,” he said, “but they do tend to thwart annoying underlings from pestering me.” 

 

“Really?” Hux said pleasantly. “I had no idea. And how is that working for you right now?”

 

“Presently?” Ren said. He dropped his eyes to Hux’s. “Terrible.” 

 

Hux stifled a short laugh of genuine amusement. “Should I feel special?” he asked. 

 

“If I were you?” Ren said. He stopped walking, and Hux followed suit. They stood less than a foot apart, matching glares in place. Ren leaned forward, close enough that Hux could smell sweat, smoke and blood, all characteristic of Ren. Hux wrinkled his nose. “I would feel scared,” Ren said. 

 

“ _ Scared? _ ” Hux said. This time he could do nothing to prevent the laughter that burst from his mouth. “Of a man bleeding out on the polished floors of my ship? I don’t think so.” 

 

A muscle in Ren’s jaw ticked. “One of these days,” he said, straightening back up, “your insolence is going to get the better of you.” 

 

“Better insolence,” Hux said, “than a cut born from my own childish impulses.”

 

Ren regarded Hux for a beat, a strange tension filling the space between them. Hux was overly aware of his heart thudding in his chest, of how close Ren was, of the intensity of his gaze. He felt trapped by it all, his body unmoving beneath the scrutiny, his eyes locked on Ren’s. Everything seemed to fall away around them. 

 

And then the spell was broken, the moment ending just as abruptly at it had started as Ren brushed passed him. Hux watched him go, feeling a little out of breath. Taking a moment to gather himself, he set off after Ren once again. 

 

“I wasn’t finished,” Hux said. 

 

“Are you ever?” 

 

“Yes, actually,” Hux said. “When I’ve achieved my goal.” 

 

“Tell me, then, Hux,” Ren said, “what your goal here is. Because if it’s convincing me to kill you, then you’re really karking close to achieving your goal.” 

 

“My  _ goal _ ,” Hux said, “is to get you in the med bay.”

 

“I’m not going to the med bay.”

 

“Then I’ll send a medic to your rooms.”

 

“No.”

 

“Then I’ll send a droid.”

 

“And I’ll send it back in pieces.” 

 

“You need medical attention.” 

 

“And you need someone to put you in your place. Yet the universe remains imbalanced, and life goes on.” 

 

“Yours won’t for much longer, if you don’t let someone look at your injuries.” 

 

“Nor will yours, if you keep following me around like a yapping lap dog.”

 

Hux caught up to Ren, and in a moment of pure frustration fueled recklessness, he wrenched Ren’s good arm back, spinning him bodily around. Taking advantage of Ren’s momentary shock, he stepped in close, so their noses almost touched. “Either you let a medic look at your arm,” Hux hissed, “or you let  _ me _ look at your arm. Your choice. Either way, someone who is  _ not you _ is going to dress that wound.” 

 

Ren narrowed his eyes dangerously. Pulling his arm free, he said, “I don’t think you’re in any position to be giving me ultimatums.” 

 

“And your not in any position to argue with me. Look at the amount of blood you have lost already.” Hux motioned behind them, at the spotted trail of blood left in their wake. Ren eyed it dispassionately before bringing his attention back to Hux, distaste coloring his features. 

 

It was one word, but it left Hux momentarially speechless. “ _ Fine _ .” 

* * *

Hux followed Ren back to his rooms. It was only when the doors to his chambers swished opened that Hux fully realized what, exactly, he had signed himself up for. His heart twisted in his chest as he passed through the dark threshold, into the devil’s lair, following a close distance behind Ren. 

 

The lights came up when they entered the foyer. Though dim, they illuminated the sparse furnishings of Ren’s living room. There was a low couch, a desk scattered with tools and trinkets, and a holo-screen Hux was pretty sure Ren had never used screwed into the wall. To the right was the wide archway leading to the kitchen, a silver water bottle sitting next to the sink. To the left, a second archway, this one leading to an unknown location, though Hux guessed it was Ren’s bedroom. Ren disappeared within its shadowed innards, leaving Hux behind without a word.

 

Hux rocked on his heels, just once, a nervous habit carried over from his adolescence, his eyes sweeping over the sparse interior of Ren’s living room once more, looking for some sort of direction. His gaze stopped on the top of Ren’s cluttered desk, curiosity snagging his attention. With a quick glance at the the dark doorway leading to Ren’s bedroom, Hux weighed his options… and came to a decision. 

 

Hux approached Ren’s desk with light steps. Shiny tools winked up at him in the low light—pliers, screwdrivers, a miniature plasma cutter, clamps, and rods. Pieces of scrap metal of varying size and shape were interspersed among the tools, some of them stained with scorch marks. Set in a makeshift nest of black cloth was a single crystal the size of Hux’s thumb, jagged edges tapered to a single point. It glowed faintly—red. Hux realized with a start that it was a kyber crystal; Ren was using the tools to build a new lightsaber. 

 

Reaching out, Hux set his sights on the kyber crystal, curiosity winning out over common sense. His fingers barely brushed the smooth surface—the stone strangely warm—when Ren yelled from somewhere in his bedroom. “Don’t touch anything!” 

 

Hux muttered a quiet curse and drew his hand back. 

 

Ren materialized out of the depths of his bedroom, into the low light of the living room, wearing nothing more than a pair of black pants, having stripped himself out his boots, outer robes, and tunic. With all of the fussy clothes out of the way, Hux could see the full extent of the injury on his arm. A jagged strip of red flesh broke the skin apart from elbow to palm, a steady trickle of blood dripping from his fingertips, splattering against the floor. 

 

There were other injuries, too, Hux realized—though none nearly as pressing as the one on Ren’s arm. Hux’s eyes traveled down Ren’s chest, taking in the rigid muscle and the dark bruises mottling his mole dotted skin. There was a bruise forming on his left side, so deeply purple in color it was almost black. There was another one below his navel, this one older, muted yellow and green. Across his hip, disappearing beneath the band of his pants, there was a shallow cut, already beginning to scab over. Twisting around these fresh injuries were shiny ropes of old scar tissue, some of them rippled ghastly due to the severity of the original wound. 

 

“Well?” Ren said. Hux snapped his attention back to Ren’s face. “Are you going to dress my arm, or are you just going to stand there and stare at me?” 

 

Despite himself, Hux felt his face flush, heat fanning out from his cheeks. Quickly tamping down on the reaction, Hux said, “Go sit on the couch.” 


	4. Chapter 4

Hux walked back into the living room frowning, what Ren considered a first aid kit clutched in his hands, relieved now more than ever that he had insisted on looking at Ren’s wound himself. He had found the dented metal box, white in color with a red medical symbol etched onto the lid, abandoned haphazardly in the bathroom cupboard below the sink. A cursory glance inside via a broken clasp revealed its meager contents—a half used roll of gauze, a packaged antiseptic wipe, a bacta patch, and burn cream, which was completely useless to him. He could only imagine the rudimentary care Ren had planned on giving himself before he set out again, off to incur more injuries and give Hux headaches. Honestly, it was a miracle the man was still alive. Or, in Hux’s case, a curse. 

 

Hux sighed. “I guess this will have to do.” He set the first aid kit down on the coffee table, giving it a scornful look that he then turned on his “patient.”

 

Ren was seated on the low couch, the hard muscles of his abdomen bunched from his hunched position, his legs spread out in a wide V. He wasn’t looking at Hux so much as he was watching him; there was a certain weight to his gaze that Hux tried to ignore. His dark eyes tracked each of Hux’s movements carefully before coming to rest on Hux’s face. It wasn’t exactly threatening, but it was disconcerting, the calculating quality in which Ren regarded him had him setting his jaw. 

 

Ren remarked, almost mildly, “You seem tense, General. Nervous about your new role as doctor?” Dry amusement colored his voice. Hux ground his teeth together. Ren leaned forward, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Worried that you might accidentally hurt your Supreme Leader?”

 

“You’re the one who’s hurt yourself,” Hux said, tone clipped. “The state of your first aid kid is appalling. We had a ration distribution two weeks ago. Why didn’t you pick up a new one?”

 

“I did,” Ren said, settling back into the couch. 

 

Hux felt his eyebrows pinch together. “Where’s that one, then?”

 

“You have it,” Ren said, nodding once at the decrepit metal box sitting on his coffee table.

 

Hux swung his attention to it. The lid was open, showing off the scant provisions contained within. Shock seeped into Hux’s voice. “You used all of those supplies in  _ two weeks? _ ” Incredulously, “ _ How? And why does the box look like it’s been in the jaws of a wampa? _ ”

 

“Because it was,” Ren said. Then, before Hux could ask another question, he said, “Are you planning on tending to my wound anytime soon? Blood is getting on the couch.”

 

_ And who’s fault is that? _ Hux wanted to say. But, having had quite enough of Ren’s nonsense for one day, he instead clamped his mouth shut and sat down heavily on the couch, perhaps a touch too forcefully; Ren jostled bodily beside him. Determinedly, he snatched the antiseptic wipe from the poor excuse of a first aid kit and ripped it from its packaging. The damp white cloth, though thick, was no bigger than the palm of his hand. The smell of antiseptic stung his nose. He met Ren’s gaze, who was watching him in return with something akin to amusement. Hux hardened his eyes. “This is going to hurt,” he said, before applying the wipe. He was not as gentle as he could have been. 

 

Irritatingly, predictably, Ren didn’t react. Whatever pain he felt at having an antiseptic wipe doused in alcohol pressed harshly into an open wound was kept internal. His face remained unchanged; his body was still, save for the steady rise and fall of his chest. His gaze didn’t flicker from Hux’s for an instant. Voice low, he said, “You’re going to have to try harder than that.”

 

Hux’s expression morphed into a glare. With rough, perfunctory movements, he began to scrub the blood off Ren. He began at the crook of his elbow, where the cut began, and worked his way slowly down his arm. The wipe quickly went from white to pink to red, soaking up blood as it left behind a clean shine on Ren’s skin. 

 

When Hux reached Ren’s hand, he paused. Seeing no other way around it, he picked up Ren’s hand and placed it gingerly in his lap, studiously avoiding Ren’s gaze, which, agitatingly,  had been on his face the entire time. He dabbed at the tender skin of Ren’s palm, swiping up the last remnants of blood. When he was finished, he carefully set Ren’s arm aside, not wanting to cause further damage and impede his hard work. He looked about the space around him for a place to discard the stained wipe in his hand. 

 

“Here,” Ren said. With a flourish of his wrist, the wipe slipped free of Hux’s grasp and floated away. Hux watched it go, the strangest urge to laugh pushing against his chest. The wipe, like a tiny, bumbling ghost, rounded the corner into the kitchen and disappeared from sight. 

 

“What’s next, doctor?” Ren asked, drawing Hux’s attention back to the task at hand. 

 

Hux passed his eyes over Ren, once, impassively, his gaze sweeping from the newly pinked scar sliding down his cheek to the perfectly sculpted musculature of his abdomen. Then he took in the long gash torn down Ren’s arm, freshly cleaned, though still leaking wells of blood. He had a single bacta patch at his disposal, almost negligible for all of the good it would do. But as always with Ren, he was going to have to wring miracles out of nothing. 

 

He picked up the bacta patch and brought the corner of it to his teeth, tearing it open. The plastic seams parted, and the sharp scent of bacta filled the space around him. Squeezing the sides of the packaging, he dipped his fingers into the green goo and scooped out a generous amount. He flicked his gaze to Ren’s, who was watching him with an unreadable expression. When there was no objection to what he was about to do, he touched his fingers to Ren’s arm and began to smear the bacta into the wound. He didn’t miss the way Ren’s shoulders dropped slightly or the sound of his breath leaving his lungs in a long, relieved sigh as the painkillers in the bacta immediately kicked in. 

 

Hux’s eyebrows furrowed;  _ not _ in concern, he told himself. “You moron. You  _ were _ in pain,” he said. 

 

“Insolence,” was all Ren said. 

 

Hux frowned, the corner of his mouth pulled down by an invisible weight. He didn’t say anything more as he continued to daub bacta into the cut, his fingers, to his explicit, infuriating knowledge, working more gently than before, careful not to cause Ren more pain. He became aware of the feel of his fingertips brushing against Ren’s skin, of the heat pulsing off the body next to him in waves, of the conscious nature of his breathing. His frown deepened into a scowl. Ren, Hux could have sworn, stifled a quiet laugh. 

 

When the last of the bacta was applied, Hux reached for the half used roll of gauze. Soft and white, he rubbed the cottony texture between his fingers. Unwinding the roll some, without looking at Ren, he said, “Lift up your arm.”

 

When Ren didn’t comply, Hux looked up. Ren was staring at him, one dark brow raised. The twitching smile being repressed at the corner of his mouth told Hux that Ren was amused at the prospect of Hux giving him orders. Hux pursed his lips, annoyed. With all of the flat sarcasm he could muster, Hux said, “Supreme Leader Ren, would you  _ please  _ do me the honor of lifting your arm?” 

 

Ren lifted his arm. Hux shot him a glare. 

 

When Hux finished wrapping Ren’s arm, he checked over his work. Satisfied, he said, “It’ll heal properly now. There’s nothing I can do about the scar you’ll have, though.” 

 

There was mirth dancing in Ren’s eyes. “Stars forbid I get a scar,” he said, “on my body already covered in scars.”

 

Hux set his mouth into a line. “I suppose for you, _ this _ is just an occupational hazard.”  

 

“For men like  _ us _ ,  _ dying _ is an occupational hazard,” Ren said. Then, cocking his head, almost slyly, he said, “Even still, I bet your body doesn’t have a single blemish on it. That pale Arkanis skin of yours unmarked.”

 

“Mostly,” Hux said, “considering,” he continued, “that the only occupational hazard I haven't been able to avoid is a rampaging  _ manchild _ .” 

 

“Sounds like quite the conundrum,” Ren said. 

 

“ _ Conundrum _ ,” Hux repeated. “That’s a big word for you. Allow me to simplify things. The rampaging  _ manchild _ is not a  _ conundrum _ . He’s an  _ obstacle _ .” 

 

Ren said, “And how are you planning on dealing with this  _ obstacle _ , General?” 

 

“I haven’t decided yet.” 

 

There was a pause, in which they regarded each other from across the span of the short foot separating them, Ren, with that same vague amusement lighting his features, Hux, scornfully. Their eyes were locked on each other, silently daring one another to… to do  _ something _ . Something to dispel the tension growing in the space between their bodies, fraying the ends of Hux’s nerves. 

 

Ren was the first to break the silence, his words hanging heavy in the air around them. “You should allow me to return the favor.” 

 

“Favor?” Hux said. His voice sounded distant to his ears. 

 

“You’ve incurred injuries too. I haven’t forgotten. Since you’ve treated mine, it’s only fair that I treat yours in turn.” 

 

“You mean other than the fact that you were the one who gave them to me?” Hux said. He was pleased when he saw something flicker across Ren’s face. It wasn’t quite regret, but it had a certain shameful quality to it, an acknowledgement of the wrongness of his actions. Hux said, “I don’t require medical attention. I’m fine.” 

 

“That’s a bit hypocritical. What if I order you?”

 

Hux said, “You’re out of medical supplies. What exactly are you going to order me to do?” 

 

Ren said, “Just sit.” 

 

“I’m already sitting,” Hux said, but he might as well have been talking to a brick wall. Ren ignored him, standing up and disappearing into his bedroom. He returned shortly with a smooth metal box in his hands, the red medical symbol etched into its lid. 

 

“I thought you said—”

 

Shamelessly, offhandedly, Ren said, “I lied.” 

 

Hux felt the beginnings of a headache. 

 

Ren sat down beside him, a fully stocked first aid kit in his lap. He turned to Hux and said, “Take off your shirt.” 

 

Hux parted his lips, but no words came out. He stared at Ren, dumbfounded by the command. 

 

Ren said, “Shy?” 

 

Hux glowered. Swallowing down his reluctance, he brought his hands to the top clasp of his tunic, releasing it from its bind. With deft fingers, he moved down the front of his tunic, tugging each clasp free. When he reached the last clasp, the fabric parted, revealing his slim chest, its rise and fall slightly quickened. He slipped his tunic off his slender shoulders and folded it in half, placing it beside him. He rose his eyes to meet Ren’s, almost defiantly. 

 

“Turn around,” Ren said. 

 

Clenching his hands, Hux did as instructed, turning his back on Ren with a slow turn of his body. He stared at the dark threshold of Ren’s bedroom. He jolted at the shock of Ren’s warm hands on spine, his fingertips tracing over the bruising. He felt more than heard Ren’s quiet huff of laughter, a hot gust of air across his neck that raised an army of goosebumps. 

 

“Relax,” Ren said. His words were followed by the cool press of a bacta patch. Instant relief flooded Hux’s body, the pained tension in which he had held himself draining away, leaving him slightly boneless. He choked off a quiet, grateful moan and let his head fall forward. 

 

Hux said, into the silence, “I could have done much more if you had given me the proper medical kit.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Then why didn’t you?” 

 

“You’re too fussy,” Ren said. “We would have been here all night.” 

 

“I am not—” Hux sucked in a breath as a second bacta patch was applied “— _ fussy _ .”

 

Ren hummed. Disbelievingly. Hux huffed. He resolved to remain quiet for the rest of his “treatment.” Except Ren had different plans, and spoke again. 

 

“I was wrong. You do have a scar. Right here.” Hux knew the scar Ren referred to before he felt the light touch of Ren’s finger sliding down it, from the curve of his shoulder to the mid of his back. A shudder seized Hux, and he pushed it down, fighting to keep his body from reacting more. Everything in him went rigid. 

 

“My father,” Hux said, trying to distract himself and appear unaffected at the same time. 

 

“Your father?” Ren said. 

 

Hux cleared his throat, words thickening on their way out. “He was a man of harsh discipline.” 

 

There was a pause. Ren’s hands stilled on his back, the warmth of his touch seeping into Hux’s chilled skin. Hux waited, carefully controlling his breathing. Finally, Ren said, “Your father gave you this scar?”

 

Hux spoke matter of factly. “He didn’t have the best control over his emotions. I was often the target of his anger. But it made me stronger in the end. He taught me many important lessons.”

 

“That’s—”

 

“Sick?” Hux said, turning his head over his shoulder to look at Ren. “Hurting someone out of anger?” Ren didn’t respond. He set his jaw and looked away. Satisfied, Hux turned back around. “It doesn’t matter anymore. My father died years ago.” 

 

“It matters,” Ren mumbled, almost reluctantly, behind him. 

 

“ _ What? _ ” Hux asked, the word shocked out of him. He turned bodily around this time to face Ren. 

 

Ren had his eyes closed, his mouth thinned into a grudging line. Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes. Hux felt pinned in place by their intensity. 

 

“I said it matters,” Ren said. It sounded like he was forcing himself to speak. “I know that I shouldn’t have—lost my temper. Not like that. I shouldn’t have,” Ren pushed the word out, “hurt you. I’m not going to apologize, but…” 

 

“But?” Hux prompted. 

  
“If there’s something you want—to make up for my behavior—I’ll consider your request.” 

 

Deadpan, Hux said, “I want the position of Supreme Leader.”

 

Immediately, unquestionably, Ren said, “No.”

 

“Then I’ll have to think about it,” Hux said. “Are you quite finished?”

 

Ren almost smiled. Hux saw the corner of his mouth twitch, but the reaction was quickly suppressed. “Almost,” Ren said. “Turn back around. I need to finish applying the bacta patches.” 


	5. Chapter 5

“It’s strange,” Ren said. 

 

Hux was seated on a low couch, his torso bare, his injuries being tended to by Kylo Ren of all people. He was surprised to find that the lout wasn’t completely useless; if anything, he could apply bacta patches. As often as he got hurt, he must have learned _ some _ things over the years. 

 

“What is?” Hux asked. 

 

Ren’s hands were uncharacteristically, unnervingly gentle. They moved carefully across the expanse of his exposed back, his fingertips occasionally skimming the tender skin, a warm brush of touch that had Hux fighting to keep his breathing under control, to keep the hitch in his breath from being noticed. His hands were curled into fists in his lap. 

 

There was the sound of rummaging behind him, Ren digging through his fully stocked first aid kit. “Seeing you so cooperative,” Ren said. 

 

“I can stop if you like,” Hux said, a pleasant edge to his voice. “I can be like you,” he said, “and fight every damn step of the way, even though I know there’s no reason to.”

Ren said, “I think you make my life difficult enough as it is. No need to outdo yourself.”

 

Hux scoffed. “That should be my line.”

 

Ren hummed low in his throat, concentrating as he placed a bacta patch a few inches above Hux’s hip. “I think your line should be more like  _ thank you, Supreme Leader, for your generous care. _ ”

 

“Thank you, Supreme Leader,” Hux said, “for taking responsibility of your actions and fixing what you broke for once.”

 

There was silence on Ren’s end. Hux smiled. Ren could be cocky later, when he wasn’t fixing his mistakes.

 

Ren’s next words surprised him. “Is it true that you killed your father?” His tone was conversational. 

 

Hux’s smile changed in quality. “You’ve heard the rumors.” It wasn’t a question. 

 

“Each more grotesque than the last.”

 

“I’d say there’s a bit of truth to them all,” Hux said. “His death was certainly befitting of a man of his nature.”

 

“He got what he deserved,” Ren said, understanding. 

 

“Yes,” Hux said.

 

There was another silence, this one more weighted than the last. Again, it came from Ren’s side. Hux left it be. He could practically feel Ren wanting to say something but not. His hands had gone still again, resting low and warm on Hux’s back. Hux couldn’t quite suppress the shiver that moved through his body, but Ren didn’t seem to notice, too consumed by his own thoughts. 

 

Finally, Ren said, “I killed my father, too.” Hux had trouble discerning his tone. 

 

“I know,” Hux said. His eyebrows were furrowed. For once in his life, he wasn’t sure of what to say, of what he  _ should  _ say. Ren’s voice was impassive; it revealed nothing about how he felt about his father or the circumstances of his death. Hux was thrown by Ren’s sudden lack of emotion, long since accustomed to the man’s over expressive nature.

 

“I don’t feel as you do,” Ren said. “I’m not—happy—about what I did. He didn’t deserve to die.” This last sentence was said quieter than the rest. 

 

Hux shifted, dislodging Ren’s hands. The warmth at the base of his spine disappeared as he turned to face Ren. When he saw the look on the other man’s face, something in his chest tightened. He was struck by how young and vulnerable Ren looked, the pain and truth of his admission stripping away years from his face. He heard himself say, “There is a price to power. You have to know how much you’re willing to give up to get what you want. Life demands choice. Sometimes we have to do horrible things in pursuit of our goals. It is a matter of perspective, nothing more. Pain is temporary. If you’re willing to endure it, you will achieve great things.”

 

Ren smiled, a rueful curve of his lips. “Always the pragmatist. Have you always been this detached?”

 

“Detached?” Hux said. 

 

Ren shook his head, an inky spill of hair falling across his cheek. “Forget it,” he said. He stood up with the first aid kit in his hands. “We’re done here. I applied a bacta patch to every bruise I could find. You’ll feel the difference in the morning. The pain with be gone. So will most of the bruising. Just try to sleep on your stomach tonight.” 

 

Hux remained sitting on the couch, looking up at Ren’s towering form. He opened his mouth, but no words came out; he wanted to say something, but he wasn’t sure what it was. 

 

Ren’s eyebrows furrowed. “Is there something else?” he asked. “Did I miss—”

 

“I’m fine,” Hux said quickly. “I was fine before you plastered my back in six layers of bacta patches. And you say  _ I’m _ fussy.” Hux huffed. Ren stood there, waiting. Hux searched for words. “That girl,” he said, and watched Ren’s face instantly darken. “She was just one girl.”

 

Ren’s voice was hard, unyielding. “We’ve already been over this. I won’t talk about her with you.”

 

Hux ground his teeth together. Calling upon every last ounce of his patience, he said, “Yes, I am aware. That’s not what I’m getting at.” His voice came out sounding only partially like a growl, Ren’s protectiveness over the girl agitating the deep stillness within him. 

 

“Then what?” Ren said. 

 

“Just…” Hux sighed. “You know that—you’re not alone, right?”

 

His words seemed to surprise Ren just as much as they confused him. With a twisted look of puzzlement, he said, “There are 82,164 people aboard this ship.”

 

Hux, vaguely amused that Ren new the exact population of the Finalizer, said, “That’s not what I meant.” He stood from the couch and faced Ren. The few inches distinguishing their respective heights forced Hux to look up, close as they were. 

 

“The girl is gone, and your father is dead,” Hux said. “Those two facts are indisputable, no matter how hard you wish them to be otherwise with all your magic Force powers.” Hux emphasized his next words, making sure to hold Ren’s gaze steady. “But you’re not alone. You don’t have to do this alone.” 

 

“Oh, I see,” Ren said, voice laden with flat sarcasm. “You’re asking if I want to be your friend.”

 

Hux scowled. “I’m not making a joke.”

 

Ren glanced away. His hands tightened around the metal box in his hands. “I don’t need anyone.”

 

“Yes, you’ve said that already,” Hux said. “But is that really what you want?”

 

Instead of answering, Ren asked, “Why are you doing this? You have every reason to hate me. You should be vying for my position right now, not counciling me.”

 

Hux took a breath. “The future of the First Order is more important than my personal aspirations,” he said. “If its success is dependant upon your leadership, then I will do everything in my power to help you.”

 

Somehow, this answer seemed to disappoint Ren, as if the prospect of Hux _ not _ trying to kill him was the most disheartening news he’d received all week. His shoulders slumped, his body partially deflating. 

 

Hux said, “Do you  _ want  _ me to be plotting your overthrow?”

 

A vicious quirk upturned the corner of Ren’s mouth at that. “You know what I want?” he said, taking a step forward. Hux fought the urge to step back in response; the space between their bodies was suddenly very small. Ren stared down at Hux. “I want just  _ one person _ to want me for me. Not because I further their agenda, or because I fulfil a purpose, or because I’m useful or powerful or convenient to keep around. I want one person to stand by my side simply because they can.” Ren paused for effect. His eyes bored into Hux’s. “One person, Hux,” he said. “Do you think you can fill that position?” 

 

Hux’s lips were parted. His eyes darted between Ren’s, vainly searching for understanding, meaning, clarification. He was aware that his heart was beating very fast in his chest. “I…” Hux said, and then trailed off.

 

Ren smiled bitterly. “That’s what I thought,” he said, and turned away. Hux watched him go, dumbfounded and rooted the spot. Ren was halfway to his bedroom when he said, “Go home, General. I’m sure you have murders to plot. Mine, at the very least.”

 

Hux’s blank expression morphed into a scowl as Ren’s words sunk in. “Now wait just a minute,” he said, shaking himself from his stupor. His hands were balled into fists as he marched after Ren, tunic forgotten in the haste of his anger. “Have you not listened to a  _ single _ word I’ve said?”

 

Ren didn’t stop walking when he said, “On the contrary, General. I’ve had no choice but to listen to them all.” He disappeared into the shadowed confines of his bedroom. 

 

Unperturbed, Hux followed. Crossing the threshold into Ren’s bedroom, he was instantly blinded. The space was so claustrophobically dark that not even the blurry shapes furniture revealed themselves. His vision was a wall of black. 

 

That didn’t stop the next words from pouring out of his mouth. “What are you so afraid of?”

 

“Afraid?” There was a breath of amusement. Hux had trouble discerning where Ren’s voice was coming from. Ren was perfectly adapted to the dark, melding with the shadows. He moved silently about the space. 

 

Instead of spinning uselessly around, a show he was sure would amuse Ren greatly, Hux stood his ground. “You’re running away.”

 

“What in the world do I have to run away from, General?”

 

Hux turned his head in the direction he thought Ren was in, lifting his eyes to where Ren’s eyes would have been, could he see them. “I’m not sure,” he said. “You tell me. What does the most powerful Force user in the galaxy have to be afraid of?”

 

“Pretentious generals?” Ren sounded closer than before. 

 

“Don’t deflect.”

 

“It’s called a joke, Hux. I know the concept is foreign to you, but do try to keep up.”

 

“When will you get it through that thick skull of yours that I’m not joking?”

 

“No?” Ren was  _ very _ close now. Hux’s heart gave a start when he felt the warm breath of Ren’s question wash over his face. “Should we put your resolve to the test?”

 

“What are you doing?” Hux asked. 

 

“I thought you wanted me to stop running away.” 

 

“And?”

 

“I’m not running now.”

 

Hux squirmed in Ren’s grasp, his breath quickening in his chest. Ren’s hands were on his hips, walking him backwards through the dark. Hux gritted his teeth. “As always,” he said, making his voice calm, “you willfully misinterpret things to make my life a living hell. You know this isn’t what I meant.” 

 

“Then what will you do, General?” Ren asked into his ear. “Are you going to run away?” 

 

Hux’s heel hit the wall, followed by his back. Anger swept over him, a wave of misguided resolve. “Lights, fifty percent,” he commanded, and watched as Ren’s smug face was illuminated, mere inches away from his own. He looked so self assured, thinking that he’d won. Hux smirked. He was going to enjoy wiping that arrogant expression off Ren’s face. 

 

Before Ren had time to react, Hux wound his fingers in Ren’s hair and yanked down, hard, crashing their mouths together. He felt the heated press of Ren’s lips against his own, and he poked his tongue out, teasing the seam of Ren’s lips. They parted, unconsciously, and Hux delved into Ren’s mouth, licking expertly into the hot cavern. He felt Ren shudder against him. 

 

Hux changed tactics, curious to see what other reactions he could tease out of Ren. Curling his tongue around Ren’s, he drew the silky appendage into his own mouth and sucked on it. Ren’s hands shot up to grip Hux’s shoulders, and a sweet, helpless moan left his lips. 

 

Just as Ren was beginning to respond, Hux pulled Ren’s head back, hand fisted in his hair. Ren’s eyes were lidded and dazed. There was a rosy blush coloring his cheeks. His lips were parted and glossy. The rise and fall of his chest more pronounced. Hux smirked, pleased with his work. Ren’s eyebrows furrowed slightly as his mind slowly processed this new expression. 

 

Hux’s voice sounded smug as he threw Ren’s words back at him. “What will you do now, Ren? Will you run away?”

 

Hux watched as Ren regained his focus, coming back to himself and the situation. His nose wrinkled as a snarl curled his mouth. The indignity flashed in his eyes. Nostrils flaring, Ren said, “You brought this on yourself.”

 

Hux hit the wall for a second time as Ren bodily pushed him against it, the air knocked from his lungs in a gasp as Ren’s lips claimed his in a violent kiss, realizing too late his mistake. 


	6. Chapter 6

The hard edge of the wall dug into Hux’s back. Distantly, he was aware that he should have been annoyed, the carefully arranged bacta patches stuck to his back no doubt becoming disordered by the rough treatment. In his present state of mind, however, coherent thought was a fleeting fantasy. The world shrunk around him, honing in on a single point of focus.  

 

Ren’s body was plastered against his, their bare chests pressed firmly together, adequately pinning Hux against the wall. Ren was like a walking furnace; the heat pulsed from his body in waves, enveloping Hux in a cocoon of warmth that, ironically, had him shivering like a child left out in the cold for too long. 

 

Ren kissed the same way he did everything: forcefully, and without pause or consideration. His assault on Hux’s mouth was almost violent, his tongue prying his lips apart, demanding entrance. The savage attack was not without skill. Hux’s fingers dug uselessly into Ren’s arms as the infuriating man wreaked havoc on his senses. Ren had rendered him defenseless. When he pulled Hux’s tongue into his mouth and lewdly sucked on it, his stomach knotted in desire. His knees buckled beneath the sudden force of the feeling, surrendering his weight to Ren’s arms, which were curled adamantly around his waist, holding him in place. 

 

Ren pulled away, finally breaking for air. Hux held no delusions that he was to put an end to their current situation. When Ren set a course of action, he followed through. It was the one quality Hux admired in him. Although massively incompetent, Ren was tenacious, especially when fueled by his emotions. Hux took the small opening to take in a lungful of air, inhaling sharply through his nose. The urgency of that single breath gave him away. He cursed himself for not having better control. And then cursed Ren for stripping it from him in the first place. And then cursed himself again, Phasma’s warning about not goading Ren flitting through his scattered thoughts. 

 

Ren’s face was less than an inch away from Hux’s, their noses brushing in a way that was too intimate for Hux’s tastes. He tried to draw back, but his head just hit the wall. Beneath drooping lids, Ren was watching him. The look was deceptively lazy. Underneath those absurdly long lashes, Ren’s eyes were hard, determined. Hux did his best to return the stare, furrowing his brows into a glare, though he wasn’t sure how threatening he looked with flushed cheeks and mussed hair. He bit down on his tongue to keep himself from snapping some obscenity that would let Ren know how flustered he was. 

 

Though his breathing was considerably more even than Hux’s, Ren’s chest rose and fell in quick succession; Hux felt each breath pressed against his own chest, close as they were. Ren’s arms were wrapped tightly around Hux’s waist, bringing their lower bodies together, keeping him in a snug embrace. Hux knew it wasn’t out of a sense of compassion; it was to keep him from squirming away. 

 

“Nothing to say?” Ren sounded distinctly pleased with himself.  _ Vindictive bastard _ . 

 

Hux licked his lips, tasting Ren on them. Ren’s eyes flickered down to his mouth, and Hux felt his cheeks heat. What could he say? That, once again, he let his mouth run and got himself into another unpleasant situation? If Phasma were here, he knew the exact reaction she would have: an apathetically raised eyebrow and a bored  _ I told you so _ before strolling away. He really did bring this on himself. 

 

Hux said, “Do you really want to have a conversation right now?” His palms were warm against Ren’s shoulders. 

 

Ren smirked. “Are you capable of one?”

 

Hux’s face darkened. His voice lowered an octave. “I can show you what I’m capable of.” He bit his nails into Ren’s skin, leaving angry red crescent moon shapes in his wake. Ren didn’t even flinch.

 

Lowering his voice to match Hux’s, Ren said. “I’m not sure if you’re trying to threaten me, seduce me, or make me laugh.”

 

“I’m not sure if you care,” Hux said. “You’re body seems to be reacting just the same.”

 

Ren’s laugh was a soundless breath, a burst of hot air that washed over Hux’s right cheek. There was no hiding the fact that Ren was hard. From nose to toe tip, their bodies were pressed together, tangled sinuously. Hux felt every slight shift in Ren’s body as if it were his own. The erection straining through the coarse material of Ren’s pants brushed against his hip, etching goosebumps into the delicate skin. He had the destructive desire to reach down and palm it, curious to see what noise Ren would make, or if he would even allow it. 

 

Ren dipped his head to speak directly into Hux’s ear. Hux felt Ren’s lips move to form each word as he whispered, “You can’t tell me that you’re not similarly affected.”

 

Succinctly, Hux said, “No, I can’t.” He was displeased at having to admit it, but he couldn’t exactly deny the state of his arousal. It was currently pushing against Ren’s thigh, seeking attention. 

 

“I didn’t realize that you capable of feeling arousal,” Ren said. Hux’s eye twitched, sensing that Ren was only half joking. 

 

Ren’s hair tickled Hux’s nose; he had no choice but to breathe in the subtly sweet scent of Ren’s shampoo. “I’m a man, Ren,” Hux said, tone somewhat annoyed. He shifted his face to the side, turning away from Ren’s head next to his ear. 

 

“Half your men believe you to be some frigid monster.”

 

Hux said, “You really are angling for a conversation, aren’t you. Should I call for tea?” He felt Ren’s smile curve against his neck.

 

“I didn’t realize that you were so impatient,” Ren said. “Eager?”

 

Hux scowled. “Efficient.”

 

“Is that how they do things are on Arkanis?” Ren asked. “Like a formal arrangement? Seems terribly impersonal to me.”

 

“Perhaps,” Hux said, growing frustrated. “But at least we actually  _ do  _ something. We don’t just stand—”

 

Hux’s sentence was cut off as Ren reclaimed his lips in a sudden kiss, the force of it knocking Hux’s head against the wall. Ren’s presence once again crowded around Hux, smothering his senses. The arms wrapped around Hux’s waist tensed and then pulled up; Hux was lifted bodily off the ground. 

 

Hux’s arms slid frantically around Ren’s back, his palms sliding over the heated skin, searching for purchase. He spread his legs and wrapped them around Ren’s waist, crossing his feet at the ankles at Ren’s lower back. Ren canted his hips forward, angling Hux’s back against the wall. He hit it with a thud; his teeth clacked with Ren’s, a bright flash of pain quickly forgotten. Hux pressed his eyes closed as their mouths moved together, Ren’s soft lips covering his own, parting to reveal the peak of a tongue. 

 

Ren’s hands glided up Hux’s sides, his fingertips teasing and warm, coaxing goosebumps to explode over Hux’s skin. His hands stopped on either sides of where Hux’s heart was trying to beat itself out of his chest and fitted hotly around his ribcage. As slim as Hux’s frame was, Ren was almost able to wrap his hands fully around him. They pushed up, smoothing across the ridges of his ribs, then drew apart, coming to curl around Hux’s back. His knuckles drew a line down his spine, running gently over the peaked bones. When they reached the dip of its base, Ren pressed his thumbs in, just once, and returned his hands to Hux’s waist, his grip tight, holding Hux in place for the moment Ren decided to roll his hips forward. Hux’s breath stuttered in his lungs, pleasure curling low in his gut.

 

In between vehement kisses, Ren asked, “Is this efficient enough for you?”

 

Hux’s nails were digging into the skin between Ren’s shoulder blades, his last desperate hold on control. He was completely wrapped around Ren’s body, his arms and legs straining to hold himself up, and, subsequently, brining the man in question impossibly closer. He was held firmly in return, Ren’s strong hands in a vice like grip around his waist. The slow rocking of their bodies was hypnotic, a rhythmic motion that was stealing Hux’s breath and replacing it with crackling pleasure. 

 

Hux really,  _ really _ knew that he shouldn’t goad him anymore, but he just couldn’t seem to hold his tongue around Ren. “It’s what I expected,” he said. “At this rate, we might finish in time for next month’s quarterly revenue meeting.” 

 

Ren stilled, and then pulled back. There was an infinitesimal moment in which they locked gazes and Hux’s breath stopped in his chest. Ren’s eyes were brighter than Hux had ever seen them, glimmering with amusement and desire. Hux wouldn’t go so far as to say that Ren looked happy, but the pain and sorrow were gone. For now. So long as he was adequately distracted. Hux brought one of his hands up, caught by the look in Ren’s eyes, intending to rest his palm against the sharp curve of Ren’s cheek. 

 

His fingertips were a hair's breadth away from connecting when the world went spinning. Ren pulled Hux off the wall, bearing the smaller man’s weight in his arms alone, and turned quickly, carrying Hux across the room. Ren tossed Hux onto the bed; he landed on his ass with a bounce. With his hands resting at his sides on top the sheets, he looked up at Ren. Ren placed his palms on the bed and crawled forward, approaching like a predator. Hux leaned back as Ren drew closer; Ren followed. His pursuit didn’t end until Hux was flat on his back and Ren was on all fours above him, staring down as his hair fell around his face in a dark curtain. 

 

When Ren lowered his head to capture Hux’s lips in a slow kiss, one of his hands trailed down Hux’s stomach. His fingers lightly brushed Hux’s clothed erection, a near imperceptible skim, but it sent sparks of pleasure coursing through Hux’s body anyway. He felt the tug of his zipper as Ren pulled it down, followed by the drag of his pants being pulled down his legs, a neat trick of the Force. He heard his pants hit the floor. Cool air kissed his bare skin. He was in nothing more than a pair of grey boxer briefs now. 

 

Ren nipped at Hux’s bottom lip before drawing it into his mouth and sucking on it. Hux curled his fingers around the nape of Ren’s neck. Ren broke the kiss, and Hux was left panting. Ren dipped his head and closed his mouth over the hammering pulse in Hux’s neck, a small point of heated contact that strayed lower. Ren moved on to press his mouth against Hux’s collarbone, across his chest, down his stomach, and, following the dip of his navel, into the peak of his hip bone, leaving a trail of glistening bruises behind, leading to a single, unmistakable destination that had Hux tensing in anticipation. 

 

When Ren reached the band of Hux’s boxers, he paused, breath hot on Hux’s skin. Ren brushed his nose almost affectionately just below Hux’s bellybutton, his hair dragging softly across Hux’s skin. Ren’s eyes flicked up to Hux’s; the tip of a pink tongue peaked out between his lips. Hux watched, transfixed, his groin tightening, his abdominal muscles clenching. Keeping his eyes on Hux’s face, Ren brought his tongue to Hux’s clothed erection, swiping over the thin material of Hux’s boxers. Hux groaned, his head falling back against the sheets.

 

“Next month’s quarterly revenue meeting?” Ren’s voice was husky, but the roughened tone failed to hide the smile in his voice. “I’d be surprised if you lasted five minutes.”

 

“Oh, just shut up, you insufferable bastard,” Hux snapped, turning his head to the side to hide the blush coloring his cheeks. He damn well knew how out of control he was. He very deliberately un-clenched his hands from the sheets, forcing a relaxed demeanor. 

 

“Very well,” Ren said, and in a single fluid movement, stripped Hux of his boxers. His cock sprang free, bobbing in the cool air, heavy and leaking. Ren swooped down and took it fully in his mouth, a tight, hot slide that had Hux choking on a moan. 

 

Hux’s hands flew to Ren’s head, tangling his fingers in the dark main of hair. His body shuddered as wave after wave of intensely sweet pleasure rolled over him. Ren drew up, slowly, a light scrape of teeth accompanying his ascent. Hux bit down on his lip. When Ren reached the flushed tip of Hux’s cock, he sucked on it, hard, before going back down, engulfing Hux in heat. Hux arched off the bed, his mouth hanging open in a silent gasp, his body bent in tension. Ren repeated the action, and Hux squeezed his eyes shut, thrashing his head to the side. He tasted blood; he must have bitten through his lip.

 

Ren continued to pleasure Hux with his mouth, taking his cock with a practiced ease that would have had Hux arching a brow, had he not been so  _ indisposed _ . As it was, he filed his curiosity away for later examination and tightened his grip in Ren’s hair. His body was flushed and tense, quivering with need and his quickly approaching climax. Each new burst of pleasure pushed him that much closer to the end. Words that he couldn’t articulate tumbled out of his mouth in a mumbled slur of profanity, encouragement and warning. His hip began rocking of their own accord, thrusting shallowly into Ren’s mouth. His fingers dug into Ren’s scalp. His breath came out in light, high pants. He was close. So,  _ so  _ close. Just a few more—

 

Ren pulled up and off suddenly, letting Hux’s cock slip from his mouth with a lewd pop. Hux groaned unhappily at the loss of sensation, thrusting uselessly into the air. He tried to tug Ren back down, but the infuriating man was already moving away, pushing himself over Hux. He caught Hux’s lips in a brief, placating kiss before sitting back on his haunches. Hux watched him through hooded eyes, chest rising and falling rapidly. Ren held his gaze; his hands worked deftly to unbutton his pants.

 

Hux made a noise low in a throat as Ren pulled his pants down, his boxers dropping soon after, revealing the hardened flesh of his erect cock jutting out from a thatch of dark hair. Hux reached an unsteady hand out, his fingertips grazing Ren’s muscled thigh, brushing up to curl loosely around his cock. Ren allowed the exploratory touches. Light shivers wracked his body, but other than that, Ren looked completely at ease. Arrogantly so.

 

Hux traveled upwards, hand smoothing over Ren’s impressively toned abdomen. He felt the muscles flex beneath his touch. He extended his reach, stretching his arm out to feel Ren’s chest. His fingers traced down a scar near Ren’s shoulder. Ren caught his wrist, a quick snap of movement that caused a hitch in Hux’s breathing. Ren pressed a lingering kiss to Hux’s palm as he shuffled closer, nudging Hux’s legs apart in the process. Hux, stunned by the subtle sweetness of the kiss, spread easily for Ren.

 

Ren kneeled between Hux’s legs. One of Ren’s hands was spread open and warm over Hux’s inner thigh; the other was brought to Hux’s lips, his fingers gently prodding. Hux parted his lips slightly, just enough to flick his tongue out.

 

“You bit your lip,” Ren murmured. Hux gave a half-hearted glare. A smile quirked the side of Ren’s lips. “That wasn’t meant to be accusatory,” he said in the same low tones. “But you flatter me.” 

 

Hux opened his mouth to retort, but Ren took the opportunity to push his fingers past Hux’s lips. Hux glowered, but curled his tongue around Ren’s fingers, sucking on them, coating them in saliva. Ren watched, seemingly entranced, unconsciously leaning forward. A small thrill went through Hux, his heart rabbiting at the power of holding Ren’s attention. Hux closed his eyes and moaned sweetly around Ren’s fingers, licking and sucking all the while, testing the limits of Ren’s patience.

Ren sucked in a breath. “Enough,” he said, and quickly withdrew his fingers. 

 

Hux smirked as he opened his eyes, taking in Ren’s flushed cheeks and straining arousal. The look was quickly wiped off his face as Ren roughly inserted one of his fingers. Hux gasped, body bending off the mattress. He came back down panting. He locked gazes with Ren, and the finger inside of him twisted, easing its way back out of him before being pushed back in. Ren leaned over Hux, keeping his finger firmly jammed in Hux’s body, and whispered in Hux’s ear. “You’re a bloody menace. Did you know that?”

 

Hux gave a hoarse laugh and licked his lips. Shifting his hips, Hux said, “That’s ironic, coming from—” and was cut off as Ren abruptly added a second finger. His hands flew up to grip Ren’s shoulders, breathing through the momentary pain. “Karking hell, Ren,” Hux hissed. 

 

Ren bit the shell of Hux’s ear, pulling it back slightly. “Efficiency,” was all he said, and shoved a third in. Hux cried out, screwing his eyes shut. His back bowed in tension as the three fingers moved in and out of him in a wet slide, stretching him, getting him ready for Ren’s cock. The pain was blinding, fuzzing his mind, dimming the world. His breathing sounded harsh to his ears. But the feel of Ren’s fingers opening him was exquisite, and a flash of sharp pleasure shot through him as Ren hit his prostate, hard. Ren paused there, putting an unyielding pressure on Hux’s prostate, rubbing determinedly. A moan spilled from Hux’s lips. And with it, he suspected, some drool. 

 

“Well that was a sweet sound,” Ren said. “Should we see what other sounds you’re capable of making?”

 

Hux mumbled something largely incoherent. Not even he was sure what it was he was trying to say. But the moan that left Hux’s lips as Ren hit his prostate again said enough, and the reaction in Ren was immediate. Ren’s breathing changed as he pulled his fingers from Hux’s body. Hux slit one eye open to watch Ren line himself up. Hux knew it was going to hurt, but he found himself grabbing the backs of Ren’s thighs anyway, urging him in.

 

He felt the tip of Ren’s cock nudge his entrance, heard Ren’s affected breath, felt the resistance and the slow give of his body as Ren pushed in, inch by painful inch. It was agonizing, as predicted, a deep ache splitting him open. But it was also intensely, undeniably, wonderfully  _ good _ . His mouth hung open as Ren impaled him, the breath sticking in his throat, lost in a world of confounding sensation. Ren was panting above him, losing himself in the same world, in the feel of sinking his cock into the heat of Hux’s body. 

 

When Ren was fully sheathed, they shuddered and gasped against each other. Hux lifted his arms and shakily wrapped them around Ren’s shoulders. Ren buried his face in Hux’s neck and slipped his arms around Hux’s back, pulling their bodies closer together. Ren’s cock shifted in Hux, and twin moans bursted from their lips.

 

“I think,” Hux said, panting, “that you better start moving soon.” There was a puff of hot air against his neck that might have been a laugh or a breath of agreement. 

 

He felt the slow drag of Ren’s cock pulling out of his body, followed by the much anticipated moment he slammed it back in, snapping his hips forward forcefully. Hux arched his back and dug his nails into Ren’s back, a grateful moan passing his lips. He felt Ren’s arms tighten around him, the breath against his neck erratic. Ren stilled against Hux, his body held in tension, no doubt trying to gather himself. Hux let out a breathy laugh. 

 

“Not up to the challenge?” Hux asked. “ _ Supreme Leader _ .”

 

“Perhaps one day you’ll learn to hold your tongue,” Ren said. “For now, this will have to do.”

 

Hux felt the breath leave his body in a rush as Ren pulled all the way out, waited a beat, and shoved back in, hitting Hux’s prostate dead on. Hux had no time to recover or collect himself; Ren picked up a ruthless pace that made Hux see stars with each savage thrust. The sound of his own broken moans filled his ears as he descended into proper madness. 


	7. Chapter 7

_Hux spun in a circle, turning sharply on his heel, head swiveling wildly as he took in his surroundings, trying to figure out where he was. His eyes strained to see through the darkness. It hung heavy around him, clung, like a cloak over his shoulders and a veil over his eyes. An icy wind whipped across his face, stripping it raw, bringing with it the taste of salt. He could hear the distant roar of the ocean crashing against rocks, sending its frozen spray to the wind. He looked up to a black sky, the cloud cover so substantial it snuffed out all of the stars’ light and swallowed the moon whole. It pressed down like a weight. His heart squeezed in his chest. Trapped._

 

_The world around him began to take shape, but only just—shadowed silhouettes emerged from the darkness, as if they themselves were made from the night. There were what appeared to be several low hutts clustered around him in a circle, at which he stood in the center of. Several more clusters of hutts rose above and around him in expanding circles. Though more apparition than solid, they stood unnaturally still, long since abandoned and devoid of life. He felt, very deeply, the weight of their solitude. He knew with absolute certainty that there wasn’t a single living soul around. He was entirely, completely, crushingly alone. This knowledge settled like a chill in his bones._

 

_He wrapped his robes tighter around himself, folding his arms over his chest. He could feel that his heart was slamming frantically against his chest, trying to escape the desolation. He urged it to be still. Panicking would only stoke the loneliness roiling within him, transforming it into a clawing desperation to be out of this place. Where he would go, he did not know. Somewhere warm and populated, someplace with a sun and people. But it didn’t matter. Not really. It was just a fantasy. With every aching atom of his body, he knew—there was no escaping this place. He would remain here forever, alone, because there was no one to save him. Because there was no one who loved him. Because he had no one._

 

_He felt the warmth of a tear slip down his cheek and become instantly frozen on his face. He brought up a finger to trace its decent, shocked, until rage at his own weakness came over him like tide, washing away the despair. He dug his fingernails into his face until the skin broke and blood spilled, then dragged them down, tearing away flesh. He let out a guttural yell, a primal roar of pain that was ripped from his throat. It was consumed by the darkness._

 

_He screamed until his throat was raw and his voice was little more than a rasp. That was when the figure of a man materialized before him, standing a few feet off. It was as if the shadows themselves had come together to form him. Where there was once nothing, there was now the black shape of a person, coming closer._

 

 _Euphoria and terror washed over Hux, freezing him in place. He wasn’t alone. He wasn’t alone. He wasn’t alone. He repeated the words to himself, struck by their impossible meaning. The man drew closer, his long robes snapping in the frigid winds. His face was concealed by a pointed hood. He watched the man approach, breath stuck in his lungs, heart frozen in his chest. The man’s hands, pale and withered, appeared from the dark folds of his robes. They lifted to throw back the pointed hood. An old man’s face was revealed, deeply lined and grim. His eyes were pits of glittering black, shifting like the shadows. His mind supplied the name._ Luke. __  
_  
_ _His heart slammed painfully against his chest, just once, then stopped at once, waiting. Somehow, he knew what was coming. From Luke’s right side, a lightsaber was ignited. The black pools of Luke’s eyes reflected the flickering green light. Hux tried to take a step back but found that he couldn’t. He looked down; the tops of his boots were held firm by a layer of overlapping roots, raised from the earth by the Force. He looked back up, eyes wide. Luke raised his lightsaber. He felt the scream bubbling up in his throat, the single, most painful question of his existence pushing its way out._ Why does my own family want to kill me? _The lightsaber came down in a slashing arch. Luke’s voice rang in his ears._ You never had a family. You are alone in this world. _And then there was a blinding pain as the lightsaber cut through him, searing his flesh and taking his life. He was alone._

 

Hux shot up in bed with a gasp, the sheets slipping off his chest to pool around his waist. He slapped a palm over his heart, feeling the frantic slam of it against his hand. His body was drenched in a cold sweat. Minute tremors wracked his tired limbs. He inhaled deeply through his nose and exhaled slowly from his mouth, trying to steady his panicked breathing. He looked around himself with wide eyes, cataloguing his surroundings. He tried not to let the fact that he wasn’t in his own room overwhelm his burgeoning sense of calm. He prodded at his memory, searching.

 

It came back to him in a steady stream when his eyes landed on Ren. At some point in the night, he had kicked the sheets off himself; they were bunched and tangled at his feet. As such, the long, muscled expanse of his naked body was starkly exposed. He was laying on his stomach, the side of his face pressed into his crushed pillow, squishing his cheek up and making it look chubby. He slept with the same wild abandon with which he lived, his limbs splayed out haphazardly and uncaringly. One of his arms hung off the bed; the other was outstretched towards Hux, his fingers curling near Hux’s waist. His legs were spread in a wide V, showing off the perfect shape of his ass. Unobserved, safe in his solitude, calming from a horrid dream, Hux allowed himself to appreciate the hard, well-defined planes of Ren’s body, a more than welcome distraction.

 

As Hux’s eyes raked over Ren’s naked form, he began to notice the same signs of distress he had just woken from. Ren was shivering slightly, his body covered in a thin sheen of glistening sweat. His pale skin was stippled in gooseflesh. Tendrils of his inky hair were plastered to his forehead. His one exposed eyebrow was furrowed, forming a wrinkle over the bridge of his nose. His mouth was parted, his lips moving rapidly to form silent words.  
  
Hux’s forehead creased in concern. A small frown tugged at the corner of his mouth. Pushing through his reluctance, he lifted a hand and placed it over Ren’s shoulder. Ren felt hot to the touch. “Ren,” Hux said, and jostled Ren’s shoulder. “Wake up. You’re having a bad dream.” He steeped his voice with annoyance, covering up any traces of concern.

  


Ren mumbled something incoherent and didn’t wake. His nonsense response was followed by a sharp intake of air. Ren’s entire body went rigid, his muscles tensing and straining off the bed. A low moan passed his lips. It wasn’t a response to imaginary pleasure. Hux’s blood turned to ice in his veins. He remembered Ren making the same noise when his tattered body was dragged off the crumbling, frozen surface of Starkiller.

 

“Ren,” Hux said louder, shaking the shoulder beneath his hand with more force. “Wake up. If you don’t, I’m going to go find a glass of cold water and dump it on you.”

 

Ren groaned into his pillow. “Please don’t.” His voice was muffled when he spoke, but Hux still registered the notes of tension straining it.

  
Snatching his hand back, Hux asked, “Are you in pain?”  
  
Ren laughed, a sardonic sound that rattled brokenly in his chest. “My own family wants to kill me.”

 

Hux froze, Ren’s words settling like a weight in his gut. He had a terrible sense of foreboding when he saw that Ren’s eyes were still screwed shut. Ren was still dreaming.  
  
Hux’s breathing changed, realization dawning. He shoved Ren onto his back and clambered on top of him, settling his weight against a hard stomach packed with muscle. He ignored the twitch of interest from his cock and lifted his hand over his head. He brought it down with a whoosh, and his palm connected with Ren’s cheek with a resounding slap. A red handprint instantly bloomed across Ren’s cheek.  
  
Ren jolted awake, shooting up much like Hux had done. Hux reeled backwards to keep Ren from headbutting him. His spine arched away from Ren, but his legs remained bent at either sides of Ren’s thighs, his lower body pinned in place by Ren’s hands, which had instantly gripped Hux’s waist upon waking. His meaty fingers dug into the dips of Hux’s hip bones hard enough to bruise. The thought made Hux shiver, but he ignored the amorous thoughts that infiltrated his mind.

 

Ren was staring at him with wide, startled eyes, no doubt struggling to discern reality from fiction. His breathing was ragged, coming out in harsh pants. Hux stared back and said nothing. He was having some difficulty controlling his own breathing for a plethora of reasons, the least of which being he was sitting in Ren’s lap naked and could feel the other man’s cock pressed against his bottom.

 

Hux watched as the fog receded from Ren’s eyes, the other man’s senses and memory returning to him. The tension slowly drained away from Ren’s body. Hux felt the muscles beneath him relax and shift into new positions. He sunk lower onto Ren’s lap. Ren’s breathing was evening out. His grip around Hux’s waist loosened, though he didn’t let go entirely.  


“What happened?” Ren’s voice was rough with sleep. It sent a spike of arousal straight to Hux’s cock. Hux tamped down on the reaction with every last bit of restraint he possessed and willed himself not to get hard.

 

“You were dreaming,” Hux said, overly aware of the heated skin pressed against his own. He remained extremely still, careful not to make any small movements that might stir his arousal. “I woke you up.”

  
Ren furrowed his brows. “Did you—hit me?” There was a note of incredulity in his voice. He brought a hand to his cheek and gently prodded the inflamed flesh.  
  
“You sleep like the dead,” Hux said. “I tried shouting at you, but when that inevitably failed to work, yes, I slapped you. I found it necessary to wake you.”  
  
“I’m sure you did.” Ren said, shooting Hux an accusatory glare. He rubbed his hand over his cheek and worked his jaw.  
  
“Fine,” Hux said. He crossed his lithe arms over his chest. “The next time you’re having a dream about a murderous madman, I’ll kindly drag the sheet over you and let you suffer in peace.”

  


Ren’s hand stilled on his jaw. His eyes sparked with mischief. Meeting Hux’s gaze, he said, “The next time?” There was a sly, knowing smile threatening to upturn the corner of his mouth.

 

Hux felt his cheeks flush as he realized what he had just insinuated. Forgetting the need to be still, he squirmed in Ren’s grasp. “Would you let me go, please?” He covered his hands over Ren’s and tried to pry them from his waist. To no avail, of course.  


Ren cocked his head, sending a tumble of sweat soaked hair to the side. There was a lazy sort of grin on his face. “Why? You’re shift doesn’t start for at least another two hours.”  
  
Hux huffed and began pushing against Ren’s chest, trying to dislodge the man’s hold on him. He might as well have been trying to move a brick wall. “My shift,” he said, “has nothing to do with my desire to be free.”

  
“Your shaft, then?” Hux frowned at Ren’s attempt at a dirty joke. Ren laughed, rich and warm, a far cry from the broken one he gave when he was still asleep. “Oh dear me, General, have I wounded your delicate sensibilities?”

 

“ _My delicate sensibilities?_ ” Hux sputtered and stopped struggling. “I once obliterated five planets!”

 

“I guess you drew the line at fucking your supreme leader, then.”

 

“No, that’s where I crossed the line,” Hux said, glowering. “But believe me when I say it’s a mistake I won’t be making twice. I plan to stay firmly on the other side of it from here on out.”

 

“Just like how I was firmly inside of you?”

 

Hux’s nostrils flared. Before he had time to think about or even register what he was doing, his hand was arching through the air, heading straight for Ren’s cheek. Ren’s hand wrapped around his wrist before he could slap the infuriating bastard in the face. “I think getting slapped once was enough,” Ren said. “Though I wouldn’t mind repeating other events.”

 

Hux sneered and wrenched his hand free. “Go find someone else to torture.”

 

“Other people aren’t as much fun to torture,” Ren said. “They all turn the same shade of white when they see me. You, on the other hand, flush pink all over.”

 

Hux opened his mouth, a retort already on his tongue, but was quickly silenced as Ren surged forward, smothering Hux’s lips with his own. Hux made an embarrassingly high note of surprise. He punched Ren’s chest with his fists, but Ren simply wrapped his hands around Hux’s wrists and held them in place so his hands were resting docilely over Ren’s heart rather than beating the life out of him. He resisted further, trying to wriggle his bottom out of Ren’s lap. That proved to be a massive mistake. Ren growled into Hux’s mouth as Hux’s ass moved over Ren’s trapped cock. He bit Hux’s lip and Hux jerked, a moan slipping unbidden passed his lips when his cock accidentally brushed against Ren’s stomach.

 

Hux struggled for a few more moments before resignation settled in and he surrendered himself to the kiss. Ren’s lips were delightfully warm against his own. He began rocking his hips against Ren’s, and from there things moved quickly. Ren lowered Hux onto his back and entered him in a single push, his hole still stretched from the previous night. Ren pulled out to the tip and thrust back in, hard, setting a steady, deliberate pace that had Hux scrabbling at the sheets and Ren’s back. His moans pitched in fervor as he was pushed closer and closer to climax, his voice coming to a crescendo as he shouted his release, Ren grunting above him and spilling deep inside of Hux. They both came down panting, sated, and dazed.

 

Regaining some of his senses, Hux found it in himself to frown at the sticky mess coating his stomach. He pushed at Ren. Groaning, Ren pulled out and rolled over, off of Hux and onto the mattress, his chest still heaving with soft pants. Hux glared at him before slipping off the side of the bed. His legs were a little wobbly when he stood, but he forced them to move. He found Ren’s pants on the floor and used them to swipe at the come drying on his stomach. He didn’t miss the glare Ren shot him.

 

_Arrogant, ginger prick. You’re entirely too sure of yourself. Remind me again why I let you get away with your insolent behavior instead of just killing you?_

 

Hux scoffed. “I suspect it’s because you want to fuck me,” he said. “Though it should be because you need me to run the First Order. And to be fair, my insolence is matched by your impropriety.”

 

Ren’s eyes widened and he sat up in bed. Hux threw his pants at him, expecting Ren to deflect them with a flick of the Force. He didn’t think that they’d actually smack Ren in the face and then fall to land in a filthy pile in his lap. But that’s exactly what happened. Hux furrowed his brows.

 

_Can you hear me?_

 

“Of course I can hear you,” Hux said. “Now quit doing that. I don’t want you in my head. I know you’re laziness is legendary, but can you really not take the effort to speak?”

 

_Madman._

 

Hux snorted. “Hardly. You’re the one acting crazy.”

 

“No,” Ren said, shaking his head. He crawled out of bed and stalked towards Hux. There was an edge to his voice that made Hux aware of the shrinking space between their bodies. “You said that the next time I have a dream about a murderous madman, you’d let me suffer in peace.”

 

“Yes, and I plan to stand by that promise,” Hux said. “What are you getting on about?”

 

“How did you know what I was dreaming of?”

 

Ren came to a stop before Hux, his body so close that their toes were touching. He was staring intently, if not a little accusatory, into Hux’s eyes.

 

“I—” Hux started and dropped off, not because he didn’t have the answer, but because he did have it. He’d known it all along, and yet it was still shocking to discover the truth, as if knowledge didn’t permit belief. He stared into Ren’s eyes, something akin to horror washing over him.

 

 _Because I was_ in _it._

 

Ren took an abrupt step back. Hux’s mouth fell open. He had just spoken directly into Ren’s mind. Which was impossible, because he wasn’t Force sensitive. And yet he could _feel_ Ren in the air, as if an invisible channel was running between them, throwing Ren’s thoughts and emotions into his head willy nilly.

 

_No, no, no, no, no. This can’t be happening. I didn’t—this isn’t—it can’t be. There’s no way I could have—he couldn’t have—he isn’t even Force sensitive. This isn’t possible—shouldn’t be possible—unless—no, no no—that’s definitely not right—impossible—_

 

Sensing Ren’s rising agitation—no— _feeling_ Ren’s rising agitation—Hux grew increasingly tense. Ren wasn’t doing much more than starting at him with wide, horrified eyes, but he could clearly hear the chaotic thoughts whirling through his head. Unthinkingly, he reached out a hand and placed it on Ren’s shoulder, thinking to sooth the man.

 

Ren snarled and pushed Hux’s hand away. “Don’t touch me,” he said with so much venom in his voice that Hux took an abrupt step back. Ren’s eyes were slowly taking on a manic glint. “Get out. I need to meditate.”

 

Hux swallowed. “I don’t think—”

 

_I SAID GET OUT!_

 

Hux winced as the words were shouted into his head. He recovered quickly, though, anger immediately overtaking the pain. Balling his hands into fists, he said, “This concerns me just as much as it does you. You have no right to just kick me out like some cheap, two bit whore, you—”

 

Hux broke off as a searing pain lanced through his head. He grunted and gripped his head in his hands, stumbling back a few steps. His breathing turned ragged as blackness encroached his vision, threatening to drag him into unconsciousness. The pain intensified, and he doubled over.

 

_Ren, stop it, I can’t…_

 

But he didn’t get to finish his sentence. The blackness swallowed him as he collapsed to the floor.


	8. Chapter 8

Hux was floating on his back, drifting through a strange black fog. The darkness around him shifted as he passed through it, curling around him like smoke. Inky shadows swirled lazily above him, coiling and slipping around each other. Occasionally one would dip down and brush softly against his cheek, imitating a caress. Whenever one did, it would whisper tendrils of silky words that he could feel just as much as their touch. He couldn’t understand what any of them were saying, but whenever one spoke, it sent sparks of warmth crackling through his body. 

 

He supposed he should have felt scared, but he didn’t. His heartbeat was slow and steady and his breathing was calm. He watched the shadows with interest, confident that they were entirely harmless. Sweet, even. When he stretched out an arm towards them, one of the shadows detached and curled around his hand. If he squeezed, his fist would go right through it, but it still had a solid presence, kind of like a cloud, so he treated it gently as it wound through his fingers and then drifted lazily back up to the others. They were strangely comforting; he hadn’t felt this at peace in years. He was warm all over with the darkness wrapped safely around him, verging on drowsy, settling for idle. He was content to stay where he was for a while longer, free from his stress, responsibilities, and worries. 

 

But of course, Ren ruined it. Business as usual. 

 

_ Hux, it’s time to wake up. You can’t stay in here any longer.  _

 

Hux groaned. He wanted to bang his head against a wall or punch something. But there were only the soft shadows. And he had no desire to hurt them.

 

_ Go away, you bastard. It was peaceful before you showed up.  _

 

For some reason, that made Ren laugh. Hux felt it resonate in his own chest, as if he were the one laughing. He rubbed an uncomfortable fist over his chest, trying to ease the feeling. He didn’t want to feel amused right now, not even if it was Ren who was really feeling it. 

 

_ Do you even know where you are? _

 

_ No. But I don’t care. It’s away from  _ you _.  _

 

_ The farthest thing from, actually, my dear general. Now get up. I wasn’t kidding. And you say _ I  _ sleep like the dead.  _

 

_ I’m sleeping right now? _

 

_ In a sense.  _

 

_ Of course. It’s not like I expected you to shed some light on your karking Force nonsense. Am I dreaming? _

 

_ No.  _

 

Hux huffed.  _ Figures. If I was, you wouldn't be here. How do I wake up? Or, I guess, how do I get out of this? _

 

_ Look up.  _ Hux looked up.  _ Do you see that pool of white light in the distance? _

 

Shimmering far, far above, like a moon in the night sky, was a glowing circle of pure white light, its circumference tinged red. 

 

_ I see it. _

 

_ Move towards it.  _

 

_ How? _

 

_ Use the shadows.  _

 

_ Again: How? I live in the real world, Ren, not the magical, nonsense one that you inhabit. Using shadows to fly to some glowing light in the sky doesn’t exactly come naturally to me.  _

 

_ Just direct them with your mind. Call them to you. Think about what you want them to do and where you want to go, then simply order them to do so. You’re good at bossing people around. This, at least, should come naturally to you.  _

 

Hux gritted his teeth.  _ Fine. But if I get decapitated or dropped or something, I will haunt you for the rest of your life and make sure you’re miserable for every moment of it.  _

 

_ Only those connected to the Force can come back as ghosts. But no need to worry, General. You’ve already fulfilled your threat. Now stop talking and get on with it. You can’t be killed in here, but you can get trapped.  _

 

It was pleasant and warm and blessedly free of the rigors of the real, stressful world he lived in, but he didn’t want to stay in this place forever. They weren’t encroaching on him now, but he did have responsibilities that required his attention. The First Order’s future success was dependant upon his leadership. His people were relying on him to keep their incompetent supreme leader in line. If he stayed here, if he didn’t get up to that stupid, glittery moon, the First Order would crumble in a matter of months, if not from Ren’s legendary ineptitude, then from his equally legendary temper. 

 

Hux raised his arms into the air because that seemed to work before. Sure enough, one of the shadows pulled off from the others and began circling in a slow descent. It curled around one of his wrists and slithered up his arm, coming to an undulating rest in the nook of his neck. It felt, strangely, like a kiss, a featherlight pressure against his skin. A light shiver wracked his body, and his concentration broke. The shadow floated away, leaving to mix with the others. 

 

_ Damn it.  _

 

_ You don’t have to raise your arms like a corpse. Just will them to come to you. Push out the thought with your mind.  _

_ Shut up. I’m concentrating.  _

 

Hux kept his arms in the air because if he lowered them Ren would be right. Plus, Ren didn’t say that he shouldn’t keep them raised, only that he didn’t have to. It helped to have his hands outstretched to the shadows anyways. At least he thought it did. And, if anything, he only felt more determined now, because although Ren didn’t outright laugh at Hux’s attempt, he could still feel the other man’s emotions. Among the lingering fear, frustration, anger, and stress, there was an overwhelming sense of amusement connected directly to thoughts of Hux. He’d show him. 

 

Hux refocused his attention on the shadows, glaring slightly as he sharpened his concentration, snuffing out every random, busy thought that flitted through his head until his mind fastened solely on his goal. Then, stilling every point in his body, holding it in tension with his mind, he pushed out a single command: come to me. 

 

The shadows above him ceased their sinuous motions, coming to a sudden, globular stop. They hung in the air for the briefest of moments, hovering, as if considering Hux’s command, before they descended as a single, tangled mass. When they reached Hux, they detached, like fingers unclasping, and fanned out, wrapping their inky tendrils around his body. He was enveloped in a warm, tingling sensation, a thousand flickering kisses. 

 

_ Well done. _

 

Hux scoffed.  _ Not everyone is as incompetent as you are. _

 

_ You still have to make it to the portal.  _

 

Hux shifted his concentration to the ridiculous glowing light in the sky—the “portal.” 

 

_ Take me up there _ , he told the shadows. And then, because they were helping him, and he wasn’t a brute without manners,  _ Please _ . 

 

They did as instructed, though it hardly felt like they were moving. There was no wind or sense of defying gravity. It was more like the portal was coming to them instead of the other way around, the small, distant circle of white light growing, becoming bigger and bigger, stretching wider and wider, elongating until his vision was consumed by it and the comforting blackness was replaced by a painful brightness. The warmth left his body in a rush as the shadows slid off of him and slithered back into the depths of whatever strange world they inhabited, leaving behind a shocking cold. He lamented their loss as he was pulled further into the light. 

 

He sat up in bed with a gasp. Head pounding, vision blurred, he whipped his head around, getting a wavy sense of the room he was in. He felt marginally better, but only just, when he realized that he was still in Ren’s bedroom, sitting on top of Ren’s bed. Ren himself was seated on a low stool a few feet off, legs spread wide, watching Hux warily. There were deep purple bruises shadowed beneath his eyes and his mouth was set in a tense line. 

 

Hux’s mouth was horridly dry. His voice came out in a dry rasp, barely above a whisper, scratching against his parched throat when he said, “I really need to stop waking up in your bed. Actually, scratch that, I just need to stop being around you, period. That would literally solve all of my problems.”

 

Ren’s mouth curved into a frown. Grimly, he said, “I didn’t mean for that to happen.” His hands were clasped tightly between his spread legs.

 

“What does that even mean?” Hux asked. “What  _ was _ that?”

 

Somehow, Ren managed to look even more exhausted than before, as if the question was physically draining. He slumped forward slightly on his stool. “My mind,” Ren said. “You were inside my head. Or, your consciousness was, at least. Not your body. Just your… just your soul.”

 

“My  _ soul  _ was inside your  _ head? _ ” Hux said, incredulously. He couldn’t help the sharp bark of laughter that escaped him. “I’ve never heard of such a ridiculous explanation before in my entire life. Not even from young cadets caught sneaking about with each other. What the kark have you been drinking?” 

 

Ren’s frown morphed into a glare. “I can assure you that I’m perfectly sober, even though I wish I wasn’t. And this is no laughing matter, I assure you. Your soul, consciousness, essence, whatever the kark you want to call it, was mingling with my mind not five minutes ago. Those ‘shadows?’ That was my consciousness you were interacting with. So maybe tone down the flippancy a bit, because we have a serious problem on our hands.”

 

Hux’s face hardened into a scowl. “I admit that I don’t fully understand what’s going on here, but whatever it is, I can confidently say it’s your fault that it’s happening, not mine. So maybe tone it down with the ‘we.’ I didn’t create this problem and it isn’t my responsibility to fix. That’s all on you.” 

 

Ren growled. “You are just as responsible for this mess as I am.” 

 

“And how do you figure that?” Hux asked. “Because this feels like it has an awful lot to do with the Force, and you’re the one with the magic powers, not me. So please explain how, exactly, I helped create this mess when I can’t even use the Force in the first place.” 

 

“Because you had sex with me.”

 

Despite himself, Hux felt his face flush. He became suddenly aware of his state of dress. Or rather, his state of undress, considering he’d passed out naked and Ren hadn’t seen it fit to put him in some clothes while he was knocked out. He’d simply been deposited on top of the bed, naked. 

 

Dragging the sheet angrily over his waist, Hux said, “What does that have to do with anything? In fact, why don’t you explain this whole thing to me, because I still don’t understand what the problem is. I get the general sense of there being something wrong, what with seeing your dream and being able to hear your thoughts and our ‘souls mingling,’ and so on and so forth, but what does any of that actually mean?” 

 

Ren took a deep breath. Slumped further on the stool. “First of all, believe me when I say that I never intended for any of this to happen.” He stared at Hux meaningfully. “ _ Never. _ ” 

 

Hux shivered, and not in a good way. He really didn’t like the intensity of that word.  

 

Ren looked away before he continued. “When we—fucked,” he said, the sentence seeming to stick in his throat, “I wasn’t in a good place.” Hux scoffed. Ren shot him a warning glare, though he ducked his head back down. “I wasn’t in a good place,” he said again. “Killing my—killing Han Solo was… harder than I expected it to be. His death left a… a hole in me. I felt his loss deeply.”

 

Ren paused. Hux openly stared at Ren, though he tried to make it look like indifferent attention rather than the intent curiosity it actually was. He was used to Ren’s violent outbursts, his tantrums, his blatant disregard for First Order funds as he destroyed expensive equipment, using his body and physicality as a means of expressing his tumultuous emotions. What he was not used to, nor had he ever expected to see, was Ren expressing himself through carefully chosen words while slouched on a stool. It was disconcerting, if not a little worrisome. If Kylo Ren was behaving himself, then something truly terrible must have happened. 

 

Ren gave a breathy laugh, though there was no humor in it. 

 

_ Terrible doesn’t even begin to describe the situation. _

 

“How comforting,” Hux snapped, his insides going cold with dread. He covered it up with anger. “Get on with your explanation. It’s all well and good that you killed daddy, but that hardly explains why all of this ‘soul mingling’ is happening. I want to know why I can hear your voice inside my head and why I’m starting to feel your ridiculous emotions as if they were my own.” 

 

Ren’s nostrils flared and rage flashed through his eyes. With some obvious effort, he managed to remain seated on his stool. He had to take some deep breaths before he continued, though. “After I killed Han Solo, Snoke sensed weakness in me. He thought to test me by bridging me and Rey’s minds together. It eased some of the pain I felt over Han Solo’s death. She filled the hole killing him left.” Ren stared at his hands, his face twisting into something pained. Dark thoughts bloomed in Hux’s mind at the mention of Rey. Ren looked up at him, a briefly startled look passing over his face. When he spoke again, he was watching Hux more carefully.

 

“When Rey escaped Crait,” Ren said, “she shut herself off from me. I couldn’t— _ can’t _ —feel her anymore. Her absence ripped through me like my—Han Solo’s death did. She too left a hole, but she also served our connection. That connection still— _ did _ —exist within me, only it didn’t have an outlet. I should have realized what would happen before, but you’re not remotely Force sensitive, so the possibility never crossed my mind. And really, it should be impossible. By all accounts it should. But when we slept together, that severed end of the connection, in a sense, became attached to you, and because the other end of it dwells within me, it has now bonded us through the Force.”

 

Hux took a moment to let Ren’s words sink in, his mind scrabbling to work out their meaning. He told himself that he needed to think logically and react rationally to this situation. He needed to distance himself from his emotions, which were currently causing quite the distracting clatter in his head. He needed to be calm and collected. Problems were solved through careful, analytical thinking. Emotions only complicated things, shrouded the truth, withheld solutions. If he wanted this fiasco dealt with quickly and efficiently, then he needed to keep a level head. 

 

Clearing his throat in an entirely natural and professional manner, Hux said, “So this bond is the reason for all the—” he gestured between himself and Ren “—interference between us?”

 

Ren nodded. “Yes.” He was back to watching Hux warily. 

 

“All right,” Hux said, nodding his head along with Ren. “I can understand that much. Though I still fail to see why you’re acting so dramatic. Can’t you just sever the bond? Like Rey did to you.”

  
  


Ren’s eyes pinched around the edges. “I tried that already. You passed out because of it.”

 

“Ah,” Hux said. “So that’s what that terrible pain was. I thought you were trying to kill me.”

 

“As I said,” Ren said, “I didn’t mean for that to happen. Nor did I mean for your consciousness to travel into my mind while you were sleeping. That was an unexpected, if not completely karking damning, turn of events.”

 

“So what do we do?” Hux asked. “Because I’m certainly not going to stay bonded to some halfwit with poor impulse control for the rest of my life.”

 

“I—” Ren dropped off and stared at the floor, mouth curling into a tight frown. 

 

Hux’s heartbeat began to pick up. “You don’t know what to do, do you? You don’t know how to sever the bond.”

 

“Hence me saying,” Ren said, “ _ we have a serious problem. _ ”

 

“A serious problem?” Hux’s voice was raising in pitch, incredulity lacing every word. “This is a karking catastrophe!”

 

Ren glared. “Don’t be dramatic.”

  
  


“Dramatic?” Hux said. “My  _ soul _ just got back from a playdate in  _ your _ head. You’ve just told me that you accidently Force bonded us because you couldn’t keep it in your pants. And, on top of it, you have no idea how to fix any of it. So excuse me for not receiving the news with a smile and a wink.”

 

Ren stood up so fast the stool toppled over behind him. “Because _ I _ couldn’t keep it in my pants?” he said, stomping up to the side of the bed and leaning over Hux. He jammed finger at Hux’s chest. “ _ You  _ were the one who kissed me first!”

 

Hux swatted Ren’s hand away. “That’s because _ you _ were being an ass! You had me pushed up the against the wall! You goaded me into it! But that hardly matters considering  _ you  _ were the one who pushed me into the mattress in the end!”

 

“Because you egged it on! You were making snarky remarks the whole goddamned time! Do you honestly expect me to believe that you wanted out of that situation when you could have ended it with a few cold words, but instead chose to throw insults at me? You wanted me riled up. You wanted me to fuck you just as much as I wanted to fuck you. Don’t pretend otherwise.”

 

Hux glared so fiercely his face hurt. “Fine,” he spit out. “I wanted you to fuck me. Happy? Though it’s vastly more accurate to say that I just wanted to relieve some of the monumental stress I was under! What I  _ didn’t _ want is to become karking Force bonded to a karking moron! Tell me, if you don’t sever this bond soon, what other side effects can I expect to suffer from? Am I going to start throwing tantrums now? Ooh! I know! Perhaps I’ll start— _ oomph! _ ”

 

Hux was cut off as Ren surged forward and dragged his mouth across Hux’s, a violent imitation of a kiss. Hux’s breath stuttered in his lungs even as he drew his hand back and punched Ren in the cheek. Ren broke off with a grunt and stumbled back a step, looking mildly stunned as he brought a hand to his cheek.  

 

“I think doing that has gotten us into a enough trouble,” Hux said. Though, admittedly, troublingly, he really,  _ really _ wanted to do it again. His body was aching for it. Logically, he knew he shouldn’t. Emotionally, he was pissed off and exhausted. But his body seemed to be operating independently of his brain. It stupidly craved Ren’s touch.

 

“Back to the matter at hand,” Hux said, flashing Ren a look, “I really do need to know about any side effects this bond is going to have. If there’s no way to sever it yet, I need to know how to cope with it, which means being prepared.” 

 

“I—” Ren shook his head to clear it. Dropped his hand from his cheek. Stared at Hux like he was a wampa with six heads. Swallowed once. “There isn’t much known about Force bonds. They’re incredibly rare among Force users, and completely unheard of between Force users and non-Force users. I don’t know what to expect. I do know that Force bonds tend to strengthen over time. As minds grow more familiar with each other, it’s easier for them to mesh, as it were, to share information. People who share a Force bond are privy to each other’s thoughts and emotions. They’re most commonly formed between spouses because of it. And further still because sex becomes… necessary, in many cases.”

 

“Fantastic,” Hux said, with every last strand of withering sarcasm he possessed. “Care to explain why sex becomes necessary? Because to me it seems like Jedi just used this Force bond nonsense to get away with fucking.”

 

Ren shook his head. “No, the body begins craving—attention soon after bond is formed. The bond itself is like a living entity. It’s only goal, it’s only purpose, is to become stronger. And it becomes stronger by feeding off of the growing connection between the bonded pair. And there’s no greater connection than sex, I suppose.”

 

“And what happens if a bonded pair doesn’t have sex?”

 

Ren’s face twisted. “I’ve heard that it becomes extremely painful for both members of the bond. It would be like starving yourself.”

 

“Karking hell,” Hux muttered. “What a perfect, bloody mess this all is. How long do we have before—”

“—Our bodies start craving attention?” Ren just gave Hux a look. 


	9. Chapter 9

Hux folded his hands around his fresh mug of caf and brought it to his lips. The heated porcelain warmed his palms. Steam trickled off the hot surface, curling languidly in the air, reminding him of the shadows. He closed his eyes; the muted din of the mess hall washed over him. He took a ginger sip of his caf, blowing lightly first to clear the steam, and savored the bitter taste and the hot slide down throat. It reminded him of—

 

_ My, my, General. Is this really the time to be having such amorous thoughts? _

 

Hux wanted to bang his head against the table. He compromised by slamming his mug down instead, the force behind his thrust strong enough that the dark caf sloshed over the rim of his mug and splashed across the polished tabletop of the empty table he was sitting at. This earned him a few startled looks from nearby off duty troopers. Hux ignored them, snarling at an invisible Ren. 

 

_ How many karking times do I have to tell you to stay out of my head? Are you incapable of following even the simplest of orders? Common foot soldiers are better trained than you.  _

 

A myriad of emotions that weren’t his own washed over Hux. Anger. Fear. Frustration. Desire. Arrogance. Smugness. Resentment. Longing. They twisted his gut and squeezed his heart, shifting and morphing around and into each other, ebbing and flowing like waves. One emotion would crest to dominate the others, smothering everything like a wet blanket over a fire, only to suddenly crash and be replaced by a new emotion. It was disorienting, to say the least, like trying swim through torrid seas in the pitch black of night. 

 

_ This is your fault, Hux, not mine. The bond flared to life the moment you started to think about me. I was brought here before I even realized what was happening. You have a very strong pull. It would have been painful for both of us if I didn’t answer your call. The bond doesn’t like to be ignored.  _

 

Overwhelmed by the emotional havoc Ren was wreaking on him, Hux didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he took a moment to try and separate himself from Ren’s messy feelings. He identified one of his own emotions—annoyance—mixed in with the raging storm that was Ren’s emotional turmoil. It burned bright and fierce when his eyes landed on the spilled caf glistening on the tabletop. He thought about what a waste it was. Good caf was hard to come by. That particular brew had been from his personal stores, imported specially and quite expensively from Ellot. It would be six months at least until the Finalizer would be close enough to the planet to warrant a trip to the surface to pick up a new shipment. 

 

As Hux continued to think about the sacrilegious waste of his precious caf, the feeling of annoyance grew, expanding outwards like a balloon, pushing the other feelings away. He created a pocket of his own clear space where his thoughts could form uninhibited and then worked on containing Ren’s chaotic presence, tucking him to the side, so to speak. 

 

_ I don’t care if it hurts. I don’t want you anywhere near me and I certainly don’t want you in my head. Who knows what sort of damage you’re going to cause by blundering about in there. You have the emotional control of a seven year old.  _

 

Anger welled in Ren. Hux could feel the acidic emotion pushing against the mental barrier he had erected around Ren’s presence. Then Ren scoffed, the light sound echoing strangely in Hux’s head, and the anger simmered down, returning to a familiar undercurrent. 

 

_ Not even  _ I  _ could make a mess in here. You don’t leave anything out. Do you even know what it’s like inside your head? It’s like being locked in a cellar. Everything's all carefully tucked away and locked behind reinforced doors with fail safes. You don’t even relax inside your own head. No wonder you’re always so uptight.  _

 

Hux pursed his lips. He tightened his grip around the handle of his mug of caf, the curved porcelain digging into his palm.  _ I simply have control over my emotions. Unlike you, I don’t let them run rampant and over take me. I refuse to be ruled by my lesser instincts.  _

 

Something akin to amusement flared in Ren.  _ Really? So what were you thinking about earlier? When the bond pulled me to you.  _

 

Hux ground his teeth together. Shame leaked through his emotional barriers, infusing his cheeks with warm color. He tried to cover the feeling with anger, hoping to smother the shame before Ren took note of it, but based off the waves of smug satisfaction radiating off Ren, he had failed in this endeavor. 

 

Hux huffed.  _ If you don’t already know what I was thinking about, then you’re more of an imbecile than I thought. I don’t have time for this. I’m meeting with Phasma soon. How do I get rid of this—you?  _

 

For whatever reason, this question stoked Ren’s smugness. The pulsing feeling morphed into a continuous flow of self satisfaction.  _ It’s easy, General. Just stop thinking about me. Unless that’s too difficult for you, of course. If that’s the case, then there are other options. Not a permanent fixes, but the bond will be less agitated and it’ll stop pulling me into your head every time you have a dirty thought about me.  _

 

Hux took in a deep breath to keep from lashing out. He held it for a few seconds, a pressure in his chest, waiting for the worst of the murderous thoughts to pass.  _ I have an idea. How about I put a blaster bolt through your skull. That sounds like a permanent fix to me.  _

 

_ Even if you gained fifty pounds and somehow managed to counteract my Force capabilities, you still wouldn't be able to kill me. The bond won’t allow it.  _

 

Hux slumped slightly into his chair. He took a long pull of caf, now slightly cold. He suddenly felt very tired. Setting the mug down, he massaged the bridge of his nose, trying to quell the headache that was threatening to burst his head open. 

 

_ Just tell me how to get you out of my head. Other than not thinking about you. Because that’s not going to work when you won’t shut up and I can feel every tiny emotion you have.  _

 

Ren was silent for a moment. A strange sliver of concern wound its way through the conglomerated ball of Ren’s emotions.  _ Are you sure that’s what you want? _

 

Hux sighed, frustrated.  _ Yes. _

 

_ Very well, General. I’ll meet you in ten minutes.  _

 

_ No, wait— _

 

“General?” 

 

Hux nearly jumped out of his seat. Looking up, he saw Phasma was standing over him, amor clean, face bare, lunch tray gripped between her hands. One pale brow was arched, waiting. 

 

“Yes?”

 

Phasma moved around him, pulling out the chair opposite of him. She set her tray down with a  _ clack.  _ There was something brown and slimy piled on top of it. Sitting down, she said, “I asked you how you were doing.” 

Hux blinked at her. When Phasma furrowed her brows, he realized he had been asked a question. “Fine!” In his haste to get an answer out, he hadn’t thought to regulate the volume of his voice. It sounded like he’d barked out an order on the bridge. He cleared his throat and tried again, this time at a more reasonable volume. “I’m fine. How are you?” 

 

A small frown tugged the corner of Phasma’s mouth down. She eyed him up and down suspiciously, almost like a mother checking her son for injury. When she found none, she said, “I’m doing well. I’ve been busy screening the newest batch of recruits.”

 

“How do they seem?” Hux asked, welcoming the distraction. 

 

“Promising,” Phasma said, still eyeing him. She picked up her spoon and took a bite of the brown sludge. “Almost all of them have been receptive to conditioning. We’ll retain at least ninety six percent of them.”

 

Hux’s mouth curled into a genuine smile. “That’s the highest outturn yet.”

 

“Yes,” Phasma agreed, face relaxing just a bit. “I’d say all those videos you put out are finally starting to do their job.” 

 

Hux rolled his eyes, a poor habit that only came out when he was with Phasma. “It’s called propaganda, thank you, and it’s just as important as the battle part of war.”

 

“If you say so,” Phasma said, taking another bite of the brown goop. It jiggled on her spoon. “You’re the general.” 

 

Hux hummed noncommittally and took a sip of his cold caf. 

 

_ Are you going to tell her that we fucked?  _

 

Hux choked. His hand flew up to cover his mouth, keeping it from spewing caf across the table. He could feel his face heating.  _ That is none of your concern. _

 

“Armitage, is everything alright?” 

 

Phasma was watching him, spoon poised in her right hand, elbow resting on the table. Her expression had softened from suspicious to concerned. Worry lines creased her forehead. Her blue eyes were wide and welcoming, stripped of their usual hardness. 

 

“I—”

 

_ I’m not concerned. I just find the situation humorous. I wonder how she’ll react when she learns you’ve had my cock driven into your ass. Do you think she’ll be surprised?  _

 

Hux growled.  _ Shut up, Ren.  _

 

“Should I call for a medic?”

 

Hux brought his attention back to Phasma. Her spoon laid discarded next to her tray and she was eyeing him up and down again, scanning his body like a walking x-ray. Her blue eyes were piercing, hell bent on discovering the problem. Hux tried and failed not to shudder beneath the scrutiny. 

 

“No, no,” Hux said, “I’m fine. Thank you.” He picked up his mug of caf and took a casual sip. Gesturing to the tray in front of Phasma, tone light, he said, “What in the world do they feed you, anyway? It looks like wampa excrement.”

 

“You’re hiding something.” 

 

Hux went cold. Swallowing, he set his mug down and laughed. “All the decent food, apparently.” 

 

Phasma didn’t look amused. She sat in silence, waiting. 

 

_ Is it so hard for you to tell the truth? _

 

Hux sighed and closed his eyes, welcoming the darkness.  _ Would you like to explain things? _ __   
  


_ I can if you want. I’m almost to your table.  _

 

Hux’s eyes flew open. Struggling to contain the burst of panic that pushed against chest, he looked beyond Phasma and scanned the rest of the mess hall. His eyes slid over adjoining tables packed with off duty troopers, all of them stuffed into their white suits and hunched over trays of brown slop. Their helmets were removed and they conversed easily with one another, permanent smiles plastered on their faces. The occasional laugh would rise above the general din and lend the stark and artificially lighted room a jovial atmosphere. There was no sneering black figure dressed in billowing robes stomping around. Ren was—

 

“Behind you.” 

 

Hux jolted, then froze in place. His gaze slid to Phasma, a horrible question in his eyes, but her attention was fixed on something above his left shoulder. Swallowing, he gripped the edge of the table and turned in his seat. His vision was filled with the hard mass of a clothed torso. He took a short moment to collect himself before slowly looking up. 

 

Ren stared down at him, looking as impolitely disheveled as ever. His black leggings hugged his muscled thighs and his tight black tank top stretched taut across his broad chest. His hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, revealing the strong edge of his jaw. There was a light flush coloring his cheeks and his brown eyes sparkled in the harsh fluorescent lighting. He must have come straight from the gym. 

 

Hux’s imagination snatched that thought and scurried away with it, leaving all sorts of inappropriate images behind. 

 

Ren grinned. Hux scowled. 

 

“Supreme Leader,” Phasma greeted. Ren flicked his gaze to Phasma. “Have you come to tell me what’s wrong with my general?” 

 

Ren looked back down at Hux and raised a brow. Her  _ general?  _

 

_ Just because you accidently Force bonded us doesn't mean I belong to you.  _

 

_ No, I suppose not. But you’re forgetting the part where I had my cock in you. Twice.  _

 

Hux’s face screwed up.  _ So?  _

 

“Whatever you two are doing, can you stop?” Phasma cut it. “It’s creepy. You’re staring into each other’s eyes like depraved lunatics. I can’t tell if you’re about to rip each other’s skin off or rip each other’s clothes off. Either way, I don’t want to be around to see it.” 

 

Hux whipped his head around to Phasma. “ _ You already know? _ ” 

 

“Know what?” Phasma asked, brows scrunched in bemusement. 

 

“About the happy news,” Ren said. It was the first time he had spoken out loud. His low, rumbling voice washed over Hux in a wave of purse arousal. His cock twitched with interest, swelling slightly. He crossed his legs, adjusting his body in his seat, willing the hardness away. 

 

Phasma narrowed her eyes at Hux. He tried not to squirm beneath the scrutiny but little twitches gave his discomfort away. “Armitage,” she said slowly. 

 

Hux cleared his throat. “Yes?” 

 

Phasma flicked her gaze to Ren and back to Hux, a question in her eyes. 

 

Hux opened his mouth, a lie already forming on his lips, but fell silent when Phasma pursed her lips and gave him a look. Defeated, Hux sighed and sunk further into his chair. “Yes,” was all he said, but it was enough. 

 

“ _ No. _ ” Phasma said. Her eyes darted between Hux and Ren, widening comically as realization dawned. Her surprise fell away just as quickly as it appeared. In its place was a sly smile. Bracing her weight on her elbows, she leaned forward and lowered her voice. “You finally fucked him, didn’t you.”

 

“Twice,” Ren said from behind him. 

 

Hux gritted his teeth and balled his fists.  _ Not helpful.  _

 

“I think you might have done something wrong,” Phasma said to Ren, her voice colored with amusement. “He looks about two seconds away from killing you.” 

 

“That,” Ren said, “would be because of the unforeseen consequences.”

 

Phasma gave Hux a startled look. “Are you pregnant?”

 

“ _ What? _ ” Hux sputtered. Too loud. He lowered his voice to a fierce whisper. “Of course I’m not pregnant. How would that even be possible?”

  
Phasma shrugged her shoulders, eyeing Ren warily. “The Force can do strange things.”

 

Hux scoffed. “Well it can’t do that.”  _ Can it?  _

 

_ I’m not sure. We can try it if you want.  _

 

Hux moved in his seat so he could glare at Ren. Ren only offered a close lipped smile, amusement dancing in his eyes. 

 

_ No thank you. Any child of yours would no doubt be just as destructive and infuriating as you. I already have one menace on my hands. I don’t need a bunch of mini ones as well, all working together to wreak havoc on my ship.  _

 

Ren shrugged his shoulders.  _ What of your own children? Bossy little gingers running around, sticking their noses in other people’s business and ordering everyone around. I’d probably have a mutiny on my hands by the time they were six.  _

 

“You’re doing it again.” Hux and Ren turned to look at Phasma at the same time. She was staring at them like they’d both grown six heads each. “Is anyone going to tell me what’s actually going on here? Or should I just play the guessing game while you two eye fuck each other for another twenty minutes.” 

 

Hux pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Yes, yes, just… give me a minute.” 

 

_ I guess a minute is all it takes for you.  _

 

_ Ren, I swear to General Tarkin that if you do not shut up I will kill you.  _

 

_ You can’t kill— _

 

_ Then I will severely maim you! _

 

_ … But your anger already wounds me so.  _

 

Hux let his hands drop into his lap. He let out a suffering sigh and leveled his gaze at Phasma. “If you laugh, you’ll join Ren in the afterlife.” 

 

“Been threatening to kill you, has he?” Phasma said, sitting back in her chair and raising a brow at Ren.

 

“Only for most of the morning,” Ren said. 

 

Phasma grinned. “I think it’s how he shows affection.”

 

This time, Hux didn’t resist the temptation to bang his head against the table. 


	10. Chapter 10

“So you’re basically Force married now,” Phasma said, tone far too nonchalant, in Hux’s opinion, for the conversation at hand. She paused in her chewing to consider her appraisal, then, apparently finding it agreeable, resumed eating the brown sludge congealed on her tray.

Hux said ‘no’ at the same time Ren said ‘yes.’ 

Phasma’s brows rose in tandem, creases bunching into her forehead as they inched toward her hairline. “You sound married,” she said. “Given the last six years of your partnership, I’d say you’ve both had more than enough practice pointlessly bickering with each other, so you’ve got at least half the basics of marriage down. As for the other half…” Phasma trailed off, a slow grin spreading across her face. She took another bite of sludge and winked at Hux.

Now that the initial shock of the reveal had worn off, Phasma didn’t seem all too surprised or disturbed to hear that her commanding officer and only friend was now bound somewhat irrevocably to the galaxy’s biggest menace. If anything, Hux thought Phasma sounded a little bored with the conversation, though amusement still lingered in her voice. It was like she had been expecting this to happen. 

Hux wondered if he should feel insulted. 

Hux pursed his lips and gave Phasma an admonishing look. “Enjoying yourself, Captain?”

Phasma’s eyes crinkled with mirth. “You have  _ no _ idea.” 

Amusement curled low in Hux’s gut and pushed upwards to press against his chest, an unbidden laugh rising in his throat. He quickly staunched the feeling that wasn’t his own and cast a glare at Ren, who was now sitting next to him.  _ Care to share what you find so funny about this awful situation?  _

Ren gave him an idle smirk, his long body draped haphazardly over his chair, his legs splayed wide, his right arm hanging over the back of the chair, his left hand resting on his knee. A solid food was interposed between their bodies, and Hux felt every inch that separated them deeply, down to his singing bones. Ren was just close enough for his presence to be torturous. Every atom of Hux’s body was buzzing with excitement and need, urging him to move closer to, to touch. A deep ache opened inside his chest, but he ignored the maddening desire to lean into Ren’s space and instead folded his hands over the table, clasping them tightly in front of himself. 

The bond flared around him, needling him with electric pinpricks of disapproval. He clenched his jaw. 

Ren studied him briefly, a small smile playing at his lips.  _ There was a betting pool, from what I gather. I do believe Phasma’s just won nearly two thousand credits. _

“Really?” Hux said out loud, looking at Phasma. “What for?” 

Phasma’s face twisted. “You guys are doing that thing again.”

_ For accurately guessing when it would happen.  _

Hux exhaled irritably through his nose.  _ When  _ what _ would happen, Ren. Stars, you Force users are frustrating. Would it kill you to answer a question completely the first time it was asked? _

Ren looked over Hux, something dangerously close to concern swirling in his dark eyes.  _ You seem irritated today.  _

Hux’s eye twitched.  _ Why yes, Ren, I am a little irritated today. How astute of you for noticing. And do you know why I’m feeling a tad bit testy? Listen carefully now, because this might come as a shock to you, but just yesterday I was Force bonded to this blithering idiot who won’t answer any of my karking questions without having me first pose then in twenty different ways!  _ Hux huffed.  _ And I’m out of caf.  _

Ren watched Hux in silence for a moment, his emotions too tangled for Hux to decipher. Then, quick as lightning, Ren jumped out of his chair and snatched Hux’s empty mug off the table. “I’ll bring back more caf.” 

Before Hux had a chance to respond, Ren was already halfway across the mess hall, his long strides carrying him determinedly to the caf machine. 

Hux buried his face in his hands and groaned, digging his fingers into his tired eyes. “That’s not what I want.”  _ Just answer my bloody questions the first time I ask them! Karking hell!  _ “Why don’t you ever listen?” 

Phasma snickered. Hux spread his fingers across his face and glared at her between the gaps. “What’s this about a betting pool I hear? Ren’s told me you’ve won nearly two thousand credits for ‘accurately guessing when it would happen.’ What does that mean?”

Phasma’s smile faltered for a beat, her amused expression sliding off her face as Hux’s question sank in. But just like that, she was picking it up and putting it back in place. Before Hux even had time to draw in his next breath, Phasma was back to grinning. “You sure you want to know?” she asked.

Hux sighed, long and suffering, and pressed his eyes close. “I probably don’t, but I’m ordering you to tell me anway.” 

“Alr _ iiiight _ ,” Phasma said, her tone light and lilting, giving Hux a chance to change his mind. When he didn’t, she said, “Some of the troopers took bets on how long it would take for you and Leader Ren to”—she wriggled her brows—“get busy.”

Hux’s hands fell from his face and his jaw dropped. “ _ Phasma. _ ” Her name was an accusation on his lips. 

Phasma shrugged her shoulders, unabashed. “There was good money to be gained. I saw an opportunity and I took it. You of all people can’t be mad at  _ that _ .” 

Hux stared at Phasma, his eyes wide, his mouth hanging open, a billion thoughts whirling through his head. He sputtered. “When was there even time to take bets?” he asked, too shocked to sound angry. “Ren was the Supreme Leader for less than a day when ‘it’ happened.” 

The grin that overtook Phasma’s face was smug and self-satisfied. “They’re my soldiers, Armitage. I trained them personally. When the situation calls for it, they now how to act fast.” She paused, eyeing Hux up and down meaningfully. “Though not as fast as you. A few had money on two months, but most bet six to a year. No one thought you’d fuck the Supreme Leader the same day he gained command. No one but me, of course. I knew better.” 

“... _ Phasma _ .”

“I see that you told him,” Ren said, returning to their table with Hux’s white mug in hand. It was filled to the brim with dark, steaming caf. Hux relaxed some at the sight of it. Ren handed it to him and he took it gratefully, wrapping his fingers around the warm porcelain. He took a bitter sip and sighed in relief. 

_ Thank you. _

The corner of Ren’s mouth twitched.  _ You’re welcome.  _

Hux wiped the amicable expression off his face and replaced it with the appropriate glare.  _ I still hate you.  _

_ Of course.  _ Ren sat back down beside him, scooting his chair a little closer than before. Hux relaxed further at Ren’s proximity, his presence like a balm to his aching, needling chest, the relief that washed over him winning out over the disgust he thought he ought to feel. 

Phasma was looking at them in that strange way of hers again. Then her mouth lifted into a knowing smile. “If I’d known earlier, I would have bought a gift.”

Hux closed his eyes, resigning himself to Phasma’s teasing. “The only gift I want is that of silence.” 

“I’d like a bright yellow speeder.” 

Hux opened his eyes and lolled his head to the side so he could glare at Ren. “You have an entire armada of First Order spacecraft at your disposal.” 

_ But none of them are yellow. _

_ So karking paint one.  _

Ren shook his head wistfully.  _ It’s just not the same.  _

“Phasma, if you don’t stop grinning at me like a lunatic, I’m going to send you to the psyche ward to be evaluated.” Hux shifted his attention back to Phasma. 

“He seems irritated today,” Phasma told Ren. 

Hux threw his hands up. “Karking hell, you two should have been Force bonded.”

Phasma wrinkled her nose while Ren’s disgust flared. “I think I’d rather keep a wampa company,” Phasma said. 

“Likewise,” Ren replied evenly. 

Something passed between them, a silent conversation Hux wasn’t privy to, before they both turned to stare at Hux. Hux froze, caught in the crosshair of their gazes. His eyes darted suspiciously between the two of them. “What?” he snapped. They shrugged at the same time and returned to their own musings. Individually, both Ren and Phasma were menaces in their own right. But together… Hux shuddered at the thought of them becoming friends. 

“I forgot to ask earlier, but what brings you here, Supreme Leader?” Phasma asked. She took another bite of sludge and waved her spoon at Ren. “Did you come all this way just to fetch the General caf?”

Ren’s lips quirked. “Not exactly,” he said. “That was just the first step of my plan.”

Hux ground his teeth.  _ What  _ plan _ , Ren? You told me you were coming here to show me how to better keep you out of my head. _

“I see.” Phasma nodded wisely. “Caf is the quickest way to the General’s heart. I think that’s where everyone else failed.”

Ren raised a brow and shot Hux a look.  _ Everyone else? _

Hux scoffed and crossed his arms, studiously ignoring how petulant he must have looked doing it.  _ I’m not an entirely disagreeable prospect. I have had suitors in the past. _

Ren’s second brow jumped to join the first.  _ Suitors?  _ Amusement colored the word.

Hux scowled.  _ Nevermind that. What’s this nonsense about a plan? I’m really not in the mood to deal with your antics, so whatever it is, you better put an end to it. The only thing I want from you right now is for you to show me how to keep you out of my head.  _

_ Are you sure that’s what you want?  _

Hux gripped his mug so tight he was surprised it didn’t shatter in his hands.  _ For the millionth time, Ren:  _ Yes _.  _

Ren bowed his head in acquiescence, a small smile playing at his lips.  _ Very well.  _ He turned to Phasma. “Do you mind if I borrow the General for a few minutes?”

Phasma’s grin was so lascivious Hux felt his face heat. “Only for a few minutes?”

Ren winked at her. “Jedi’s honor. I’ll make quick work of him.”

_ Stop putting ideas into her head. I’m already never going to hear the end of this.  _

Ren stood up, his metal chair scraping across the floor.  _ If you’re already never going to hear the end of this, then what’s the harm? _

Hux sputtered.  _ What’s the harm? You might as well be asking what the bleeding hell oxygen is, the answer is so obvious! _

Ren sighed.  _ Do you want me to show you how to better control the bond or not? _

Hux glowered.  _ Yes. _

_ Then quite chattering and stand up. We need to go somewhere more secluded.  _

Hux bristled. “You’re the one who chatters,” he muttered under his breath. He braced his palms on the table and pushed his chair back, standing up to his full height to face Ren. Even at 6’ 1, he still had to crane his neck slightly to meet Ren’s eyes. He stifled the urge to frown.

Ren, on the other hand, appeared as if he was having trouble concealing a smile. Hux narrowed his eyes at him.  _ I am  _ not _ short.  _

_ Yes, yes. Just like you’re not chatty. Now let's go before you find something else to complain about. At this rate, we’ll never make it to our destination, and you’ll forever be stuck with my voice inside your head.  _

Hux pursed his lips unhappily but followed Ren out of the mess hall. On his way, he glanced over his shoulder at Phasma. She met his gaze and smiled wickedly. Hux scowled at her and swiveled his head back around, glaring daggers into Ren’s backside. The black tank top he was wearing exposed the broad set of his shoulders and clung to his back like a second skin, showing off every minute shift in muscle as he walked. Hux dropped his gaze and it landed, quite against his will, on the swell of Ren’s perfect ass. His palms itched with the desire to touch and a hot need unfurled in his gut. He clenched his hands into fists and ripped his gaze away, forcing himself to instead take in their changing surroundings. 

They were now traversing down a tight hallway with no viewports and very little light. 

_ Where are we going?  _ Not that he really expected Ren to answer. He just needed a distraction from Ren’s spandex clad thighs. 

_ Telling you would ruin the surprise.  _

_ Good.  _ Hux sniffed.  _ I don’t like surprises.  _

Ren shook his head.  _ Of course you don’t. Always need to be in control. If you relaxed more often, though, you might start enjoying life instead of just scowling at everything.  _

Hux planted his feet and scowled at Ren. “I’m not going any further until you tell me where it is you’re taking me.” 

Ren sighed and came to a stop, turning around to meet Hux’s angry stare. “Why do you have to make everything so karking difficult? Would it kill you to cooperate for once in your life?”

“Where you’re concerned, it probably would,” Hux said, crossing his arms. 

Ren gritted his teeth. Hux felt his impatience flare in his own chest. “I’m trying to help you.” 

“Fine,” Hux said. “Whatever it is you need to do to help me, you can do it right here.” He waved an arm around him, gesturing to the empty hallway they were standing in. “The only stipulation you had was that it needed to be in a secluded area. I don’t see anyone else around but me and you.” 

Ren’s jaw tensed. “You’re going to regret those words later,” he said, and stalked forward. 

Hux scoffed. “I doubt it. The last thing I need is for you to shove me into some storage room and— _ oomph! _ ”

Hux’s head knocked against the wall as Ren bodily shoved him against it and closed in around him, caging him with his massive body. “This is the fastest way to appease the bond and lessen its side effects.” Ren’s voice was little more than a growl. “I had wanted to do this somewhere more private, but since you insist on doing it out here in the open, I’m just going to let you have your stubborn way.”

“Ren—” Hux began to warn. He was immediately cut off by Ren’s kiss and the sudden flood of sensation as the bond unfurled and flared to life, blazing across his skin like cold fire. 


End file.
